Text: Death Cab For Cutie. Something About Airplanes. 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