The Black Ink Gallery

Saville Row, bespoke, the finest silk
For Mr. Ferry and his ghosts
Quite unaware
Of what this masquerade will hold
Inventions of the Evening

There's monsters down on mulberry street
They step in line to form a tragedy
While Mr. Ferry says
"Everything will turn out alright"

If I, had a place inside your mind
At the black ink gallery
Tonight, in the walls I could confide
And the paintings would talk to me
If I
I thought you were mine
I would spend the night
If I
I thought you were mine

I saw you on the floor breaking sweat with the boys
Your silent disco, I must've missed it
But I was changing and I didn't have a choice
I needed sensible attire

You got down on your knees
And you begged me to stay
But I was angry so I turned to the door
And flipped the crème brûlée
My hands were tied
The building was on fire
A blemish on my name

If I, had a place inside your mind
At the black ink gallery
Tonight, in the walls I would confide
And the paintings would talk to me
If I
I thought you were mine
I would spend the night
If I
I thought you were mine