I'm being hunted, by visions from up above
I'm being hunted by my fears, of intimacy and Love
There's a beautiful little minx,
Her hair is white as snow (or her face, I don't really know - too busy on the run)
The more I run the more I hide
The more her face is like the sun
I've tried and I've tried
To put the past behind
I've tried and I've tried
To drop those pains inside
But the more I ran
From my pained little childhood self
The more her Love would find me
And wrap me in its Glove