Ink - Finch

I climbed the mountaintop

I saw the bottom drop

I’m clinging to driftwood, yeah

I swim in a deep world

Words unspoken seem so foreign

Have you heard this one?

The hair on the back of your neck stands «Another way out», «Another way out»

The army ants have escaped

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany

Fang bite, tarantula

Taste of my symptoms

Gasoline and a pistol

Blood filling the bathtub

Swollen eyelids baffled by this

Tell us what you see

I’ve bit my lip for the last time

The fog lifts up for the blind

Free of body, free of mind

I’ll build my mold up, rest inside

Ink spills on paper, paper spells «my blood»

Ink spills on paper, paper spells «my blood»

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany

The army ants have escaped

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Ink runs into my cup, I sip epiphany

Ink spills on paper, paper spells «my blood»

Ink spills on paper, paper spells «my blood»