Wednesday, March 12, 2008

And we spent four days on an
Island at your family's old hotel
Sometimes perfection can be
It can be perfect hell, perfect...

Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes
That I am not there, I swear I didn't mean
For it to feel like this
Like every inch of me is bruised, bruised
And don't fly fast. Oh, pilot can you help me?
Can you make this last? This plane is all I got
So keep it steady, now
Cause every inch you see is bruised


Listen:
Jack's Mannequin - "Bruised" (mp3)

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3:42 PM
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