I climbed the mountain top
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I saw the bottom drop
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I cling to driftwood
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I swim in a deep world
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Words unspoken seem so foreign
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Have you heard this one?
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The hair on the back of your neck stands.
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Another way out, another way out...
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The army ants have escaped.
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The hair on the back of your neck stands up.
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Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany.
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Fang bite tarantula, taste of my symptoms.
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Gasoline and a pistol, blood filling the bathtub.
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Swollen eyelids
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Baffled for by this
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Tell us what you see
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The hair on the back of your neck stands.
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Another way out, another way out...
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The army ants have escaped.
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The hair on the back of your neck stands up.
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Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany.
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I've bit my lip for the last time.
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Fog lifts up, for the blind.
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Free of body, free of mind.
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I'll build my mold up, rest inside
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Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood.
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Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood.
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The hair on the back of your neck stands up.
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Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany.
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The army ants have escaped...
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The hair on the back of your neck stands up.
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Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany.
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Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood.
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Ink spills on paper, paper spells my blood.
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-----------------
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Ink
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| Finch |
