Kiss the Bruise
Verse 1 Woke up with a stripe upon the head
From the window glass and dream I fed. Alarm is dead
the phone is flat and black
Rent is hanging heavy on the back. Kitchen smells of noodles from the night
Cat has dragged a sock into the light. Surfaces are telling of the debt
Every bill a trap that has been set.
Verse 2 Stub the toe upon the wooden chair
Cursing loud enough to strip the air. Coffee machine spitting disappointment
Needing something more than just an ointment. Mirror showing bags beneath the eye
Hair is chaos reaching for the sky. But underneath the mess a grin will start
Weed inside the concrete of the heart.
Pre-Chorus Life is swinging bags of heavy news
Cans of worry that we have to use. Ducking down but taking on the chin
Icing up the spot where we begin.
Chorus Kiss the bruise and laugh at where it hurts
Stickers on the heavy cotton shirts. Dance upon the paper and the bill
Stomp the beat until the noise is still. If the world is throwing out a punch
Take it on the chin and eat the lunch. Never winning medals for the grace
Standing in the sneakers in the place.
Verse 3 Graffiti on the shelter, “Someone cares
” Written in the shaky
jagged layers. Kid is humming tunes inside the rain
Backpack full of homework and the pain. Water sneaking underneath the roof
Soaking through the jacket as a proof. Tapping out a rhythm on the thigh
Watching lightning pass inside the sky.
Pre-Chorus Survivors of the coffee on the floor
Walking through the heavy sliding door. Getting on the bus despite the smell
Riding up the hill inside the hell.
Chorus Kiss the bruise and laugh at where it hurts
Stickers on the heavy cotton shirts. Dance upon the paper and the bill
Stomp the beat until the noise is still. If the world is throwing out a punch
Take it on the chin and eat the lunch. Never winning medals for the grace
Standing in the sneakers in the place.
Bridge One day joints will quit and heart will stop
Body finally ready for the drop. Until then we stir the soup with spite
Filing down the teeth to make them bite. Happiness is part-time
secondhand
Coming with a joke we understand. Grab it with the hands and hold it tight
Even in the middle of the fright.
Outro Back upon the couch, the lumps and all
Bruise is blooming purple
nice and small. Wiggle underneath the blanket heat
Laughing at the stinging in the feet. Planning out the song inside the head
Before I finally crash into the bed.