I Am the Shovel / I Am the Grave - To Speak Of Wolves

Sink likes to drip

Soul starts to slip

I wander around negative space

Living just to lose

Courage starts to bruise

I am consumed

Trying to find my place

I am the shovel

Yeah, I am the grave

I’m looking for trouble

With a smile on my face

I’ll bring the rope

If you can bring my faith

Yeah, I’ll tie the knot

If you can throw it away

Sink likes to drip

Voice starts to slip

I am a rat

Losing the race

Bones start to creek

Air is thick and stale

This house is frail

Holds my memories