[Intro: Prozak] Black ink is the blood of the misfit It's current sweeping us through the struggle and turmoil Of this desolate paradox otherwise known as - reality Though we're bound together, we all must face the journey - Alone Cradle to the grave, one and the same Our lives outrace unchangeably in black ink (Here in my life I'm drowning, lost inside) (Here in my mind I'm dying all the time)