They come with bows and arrows
They come with their swords drawn
They come with pistols at their sides and torches lit with fire
They're storming every castle
Hoping to steal our gold
Envious of the way we have what they could never hold
We are the hunted
We are the chosen ones
We are the wanted
We are the burning sun
We are the hunted
We are the chosen ones
We are the wanted
We are what they can't touch
They stand with shaking fingers
They come with holy books
We stand in eyes of hurricanes untouched by bad or good
They are the coming darkness
We are the lightning strike
We are the love that burns the sky and fills your eyes with fire
We are the dream
That you have when you sleep
That stays when you wake
And turns all your colors gray
We are the mirror
That shows you the face
With the empty eyes
Looking for grace cuz
