The Bruises

One last look at the bruises, everyone loses Everyone's a salt pile back where it started In her apartment, breaking over things that don't really matter If anything, thank her, she's the one that told you When you were crying, the romance was dying Even in the desert, somewhere you met her Who could forget her? Dancing like a mirage on the horizon It's not surprising that you fell in love with her Let's hope you're still in love with you What a mess you created, could you not have waited? Excuses only end up, taught and then feathered Regarded as weather, better throw the salt back Over your shoulder, and kick in the front door Kiss her with a mouthful of silly secrets Tired and street lit, butterflies in red wine Nervously undressed, unable to process Knowing that tomorrow is the horizon It's not surprising that she fell in love with you Let's hope you're still in love with you Never see it reflected as you suspected Breathing had become so bitterly painful She called in the angels Flying in to lay down every opinion All 23 million, singing at the same time You're trying to whisper, no wonder she missed you Take a final look at all of the bruises Conscience refuses to settle on a cure for All the confusion and ideal solution Crumbling like a pallor on the horizon It's not surprising that you're still in love with her Let's hope she's still in love with you