Tom Mcrae

Time has coloured in, the black and white, of your sin

So burn, burn the flag, rip it up, bury the rags.

But I will find you still, Move in for the kill...

You cut her hair.

So live, live long, to see her face in everyone,

And turn, turn the page, start again, change your name,

But I will find you still, Move in for the kill...

You cut her hair.