Mr. Finch collects physicians, he calls them all his own

But each of them just looks at him and tells him to go home

Then panic closes in

I hope that whiney shit gets his

He might be sick, but it isn’t catching

though he’s often left alone

in waiting rooms to wonder why his hands are always cold

He comes when he remembers why he’s scared

when the sullen gods of dirty things

are calling out and holding him

back from behind things he can’t recall,

at least not anymore

He hopes to write a book of them some day

He can’t believe how quickly things pile up

He’d wish to live forever if he had the chance to wish

He always forgets the good things that he’s got

He passed as an actor playing a spineless, flinching twit

Well composed and polite,

he thought he’d be alright

if he kept dancing here

with his thumbs in his ears

but there was something catching up to him

and it had claws

and I know exactly what he thinks it was


Lyrics submitted by jmburge

Finch the Flincher song meanings
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