Woorden: A Fine Frenzy. One Cell In the Sea. Rangers.

The paths have been crossed
The crumbs are gone and the way, and the way is lost
Melancholy phantoms eye our skins
And poisoned apples falling with the wind

Hear the sigh of the trees
Those who enter here never leave

And the rangers stream out of their cabins
They are the hunters, we are the rabbits
And maybe we don't wanna be found
Maybe we don't wanna be found

Further in the hole we go
Saddest creatures tugging at our clothes
Cutting through the twilight, sword in hand
Strangers once united against the land

At the sound of the bells
They're pulling paper lanterns from their shelves

And the rangers stream out of their cabins
They are the hunters, we are the rabbits
And maybe we don't wanna be found
Maybe we don't want you tracking us down

The rangers stream out of their cabins
Raising their muskets, flashing their badges
But maybe we don't wanna be found
Maybe we don't wanna be found

Let?s keep hiding, all quiet like
They'll keep seeking but they won't find us
Let?s keep living a quiet life
You and I, you and I

And the rangers stream out of their cabins
They are the hunters, we are the rabbits
And maybe we don't wanna be found
Maybe we don't want you tracking us down

The rangers stream out of their cabins
Raising their muskets, flashing their badges
Well, maybe we don't wanna be found
Maybe we don't wanna be found