Your Bruise

It’s a Backwards Attraction to Your Forward Eyes
But You’re So Far-sighted That You Can’t Place Trust
In What Or Who You Recognize
We Sped the Plymouth Cross the Banks of the Mississippi River
Mary Timony Was Smaller Then a Super Ball…
Chitter-chatter All These Secrets Started Giving Me the Shivers
Plain and Simply Broken Down Near Olympia
I Think Your Bruise Was Understanded,
‘cause You Can’t Feel This Anymore
It’s Getting Bluer and You Can’t Keep Faking
That You Can’t Feel This Anymore