| Artist | David Sylvian |
| Song | The Ink In The Well |
| Director | Anton Corbijn |
| Intro | No |
| Outro | No |
| Sound Mix | Stereo |
| Technical Specifications | colour - format unknown |
David Sylvian wanders through the stark landscape of Beachy Head, repeatedly pausing near the cliffs and beneath a large bird-shaped structure. He enters a strange wooden cabin, where an elderly woman in bed is later replaced by a younger woman after nightfall. Sheet music, drawings, a damaged trumpet, and a child holding a white cat add to the dreamlike atmosphere. Sylvian also appears as a reclining, life-size image on a board, blurring the boundary between the performer and the surrounding world.
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The lights of the ashes smoulder through hills and vales Nostalgia burns in the hearts of the strongest Picasso is painting the ships in the harbour The wind and sails These are years with a genius for living The rope is cut, the rabbit is loose (Fire at will in this open season) The blood of a poet, the ink in the well (It's all written down in this age of reason) The animals run through harvested fields of fire The bitterness shown on the face of the homeless ... |