The Inkwell

(альбом: Natives - 2015)

The deepest hue of blue ink is coursing through my arteries
Submerged deep in me, submerged deep in me
Sliding its way across the potholes in the driveway
The cracks on my lips and through my fingertips
Onto age-old paper held together with little more than a purpose
And in the space of a basement that time had long forgotten

If there's one thing I know in bitterness and in angst
It's that the black bile drowning me will serve a great plan

Fall from my mouth and tell the thousand different stories
That you've strung into the index of my brain
So spill

If there's one thing I know in bitterness and in angst
If there's one thing I know, if there's one thing I know

An atlas has carved its history in my eyelids
And branded its name in my dreams
The searing red burns into my thoughts
And picks to death the things I never wanted to see

I never wanted

Failure, as it seems needs to be seen to believe
Pray this deep blue ink will spell it out for me

Fall from my mouth and tell the thousand different stories
That you've strung into the index of my brain
I watch them drip across and make the etches tangible
Hold my hand, keep me warm