The past is like a predator, I'm the unsuspecting prey.
It lurks in the night, waiting for any happiness to stray.

You run away from it, soon you think you're secure.
But it leaps from night and you'll know, there is no cure.

It leaps with a flashback, and that's how it gets you to crack.
Cause when it leaps, it causes a panic attack.

Once the past stalks once, it always will.
So until you cease to exist, it's a predator still.