Bendy and the Ink Machine: The Old Song - Dan Bull

Have you ever woken up inside a pentagram?

Memory blank

'Til you remember why you’re sent

By a temperamental man

Who sent a ranting letter

That presents a certain mental plan

In contravention of intended function

Like a dental dam

But you better lend a hand

Or you’ll get reprimanded and

Left like a gentle lamb

Defenceless next to Slenderman

We’re kind of concerned

'Cause Sammy’s having an epiphany

Harping on, he’s highly strung

And tenser than a timpani

So many instrumental references

This is a symphony

Can I get an amen for that?

Come on, give me some sympathy

The leaky Ink Machine

Is clogging and blocking the hallways

Oi, mate!

Wait up or I’ll probably be soggy

And stuck here all day

Oh, great, how rude

A failure to communicate

You should move the bacon soup

The gate’ll soon be raised and through you race

Into another room to ruminate

Locate the music station

A booth, a bass, a spooky tape

That you can play what Susie says on

Hidden between piano keys

Is an evil anarchy

Ebonies and ivories are sapping at your sanity

Melodies are maladies attacking your anatomy

Hidden between piano keys

Is an evil anarchy

Reanimating latent hate and raising rifts

Towards neighbours in favour of

Playing a painful riff;

creating discord

The lurking searchers heard you so they lurch at you

They’re determined to convert you

To the inverted church of murk and gloom

Hurting you?

They’re certain to

And if you desert, they’ll murder you

They’ll turn you to the turbid goo

You swerve in dirty loos

You might be sacrificed

To idols scribed in black and white

Only the flesh inside can satisfy their appetite

Demonically magic

Dramatically, monochromatically manic

We’re morally panicked

'Cause Sammy is one enigmatic fanatic

Emphatically honest but gone in the faculties

Obviously gone through traumatic things

Talking erratically, logic is lacking

He’s properly batshit

Belongs in a box that is padded

And strapped up in cuffs and a jacket

And locked in the attic

He’s chatting a lot

Hearing classical songs in the static

Though what happened to Boris is tragic

We’ve got to do that for the Gods to be happy

Do you want to be dragged in the blackest of swamps?

Wally Franks running back to the Bronx

This isn’t yonkers, it’s bonkers

Novelty gloves are packing a punch

Henry!

Hey, stop running away

That ain’t very friendly

Come back and play a game straight away

With your favourite mate;

Bendy

Hidden between piano keys

Is an evil anarchy

Ebonies and ivories are sapping at your sanity

Melodies are maladies attacking your anatomy

Hidden between piano keys

Is an evil anarchy

Reanimating latent hate and raising rifts

Towards neighbours in favour of

Playing a painful riff, creating discord