1. |
Vein
03:15
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Put it down on the page
in ink you cannot erase.
Stick to the script.
Stick to the script.
Mine this vein for whatever comes out and leave this state a ghost.
How many boys are of age
next to him in your place?
A prick to the wrist.
A prick to/on the wrist.
Mine this vein for whatever comes out and leave this state a ghost.
*Took her down to the morning side
where you held by the shore that night
walked along the morning side
with cemetery fog in your throat and eyes
(I smelled like you when I woke up)*
Bury me on this stage.
Make a mask to cover my face.
Not to be strict
but it's in the script.
*I smelled like you when I woke up.*
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2. |
Your Own Leash
02:12
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Your head is on fire.
Your legs are locked and limping.
Your throat is burned by bile.
Each joint snaps so loud.
Like a toothless old hound dog
wanting to fuck all the pups
you parade around the town,
but you don’t know how it works.
You’re more like a toothy, mid-aged stray
looking for an old timer to take you in.
You think you hold your own leash, but you don’t hold anything.
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3. |
String
02:11
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Put a knife in my hand.
Put a string on my wrist.
Make me dance around
and put my back into it.
You'll never catch me alive
saying those things.
So put the knife to my throat
and pull hard on the string.
You'll never catch me alive
wearing those wings.
Put my head in the ground
and hear what the earth sings.
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4. |
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There is a hole in the shape of a wasp in my heart.
Leo will eat Aries - Leo will eat everyone and everything.
How long will it take for you to fill me up?
It will take Aries - it will take everyone and everything.
It will take everything that I have but I don't mind
because all I have is not mine.
It'll take everything that I have but I don't mind
because all I have is not mine.
- is not mine
- is not mine
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5. |
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It's in the way you look in photographs.
It's the way you hold me next to you.
It's the way I cannot sleep at night.
It's the reason I stare in the sky.
What am I supposed to dream about?
What am I supposed to say?
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6. |
Dirty Looks
01:29
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I measure my worth
in dirty looks -
in rolled eyes
and blank stares.
I'm sorry that I'm sorry.
And I'm sorry I'm not sorry enough.
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7. |
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And it's finally done.
Your ghost has finally shown itself.
No longer just a reflection in the mirror.
No longer traceable in my face.
When I pull the curtain back
I realize why I had it up in the first place.
It's too bright out
and I don't want anyone to see me.
You were never a warm voice.
You were never a warm heart.
I don't know where your heart is.
I don't know why your voice persists.
Ghosts are more frightening at night -
and if you're really just made out of light -
when I reveal all you've done in plain sight
will you finally disappear for fucking ever?
You were never a warm voice.
You were never a warm heart.
I don't know where your heart is.
I don't know why your voice persists.
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8. |
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Pour me another drink please.
I can still see my face.
The smell of bleach on my hands is enough to make me sick.
I miss the days we could go out
and I would go home and feel good.
It's been three years now and I still don't remember what that is.
I think of you every day -
every day that I wake.
You were the last thing that I thought I would ever see.
How do I fit in a world
I want to be in so desperately
when every day since then feels so heavy?
You were in my hands.
You're in every scar.
But if there is a god then they were in my liver that night.
I loosen my tongue frequently
with barbs meant for only you.
You're nowhere to be found and they just get passed around.
I am a spoiled piece of flesh
tainted by everything you said.
It's impossible to make new friends
without hearing your voice in them.
Please please understand I am doing the best I can.
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9. |
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Is this the best you can do?
I bet you can try harder.
Come on - is this all that you've got?
You try and put me under.
You thought I'd go down easily -
well I guess you were half right.
But when I woke up that morning
well we were both surprised.
And while I can't give you back any weight
you've given my days
I can find someone else to help me
lighten the load.
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inkmink Maine
inkmink started in an apartment in Farmington, Maine in 2005. inkmink is an independent project.
Don't break my heart and tell me you don't remember.
inkmink recommends:
I made this album with my really good friend, Sean. Both of our poppier sides come out on it and I even croak out a few diddies. Better than anything I thought I could do and so much fun to make!
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Bedroom, Basement
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My friend, Chris, was a huge inspiration for my music. This is his old band.
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Give me Jesus … Give me Plague
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Sean Harold is one my best friends and makes amazingly crushing songs (both good and emotionally destroying).
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