Sometimes after dark, I hear a crying in the night,
And sometimes after dark, like a wild thing I'll take flight,
And I must run; but there's no freedom
From the things that I have done.
Once, when I was young, I walked the world in innocence.
I never knew the passion [that] this cruel bloodlust can bring.
A human soul bore I that never knew the night;
Now the world's become a hunting ground, and the killing song I sing.
Sometimes after dark, my memories take flight,
And sometimes after dark, I long to feel the sun's warm light,
And I must run, but there's no comfort
For the thing I have become.
Once I knew a man, a gentle creature of the sun.
I took all that he could give me, and I left him for the night.
I swore that he would live, but the darkness took my mind,
And I cannot help my nature; everything I love must die.
Sometimes after dark, I hear a crying in the night,
And sometimes after dark, like a wild thing, I'll take flight.
And I must run; but there's no freedom
From the things that I have done.
No comfort for the thing I have become.