Arc to Archtilles

The archers come to the edge of ferns
The wind it floats so cold with words
You're in and out of sleep tonight
It led you to the shed to hide

Breathing in the dark
They're finding where you are

If you are, then you know the phone's tapped
The last of the maps are breaking codes
You've seen the night thieves
Like sharpened knife bleeds through

The moon shows that you're in reverse