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Ink Lyrics


I climb the mountain top, I saw the bottom drop
I cling to drift wood yeah, I swim in the 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?
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
I've bit my lip for the last time
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

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

Beth Patterson is an Irish folk and Celtic musician. Combining traditional Irish, Celtic and folk ballads with Cajun, world-beat and progressive rock influences, her own creative songwriting and a unique sense of humor, Patterson's wit, charm, and beauty are as memorable as her powerful music. A native of Lafayette, Louisiana, Patterson began her professional career in her teens as a classical oboist and a Cajun bass player. She spent a year studying traditional Irish music and ethnomusicology at University College Cork in Ireland, where she began to experiment with musical fusion.

Read more about Beth Patterson on Last.fm.


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Beth Patterson