I've got my things, I'm good to go
You met me at the terminal
Just one more plane ride and it's done

We stood like statues at the gate
Vacation's come and gone too late
There's so much sun where I'm from
I had to give it away, had to give you away

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

I lace my Chucks, I walk the aisle
I take my pills, the babies cry
All I hear is what's playing through
The in-flight radio
Now every word of every song
I ever heard that made me want to stay
Is what's playing through
The in-flight radio, and I
And I am, finally waking up

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
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, yeah

So read your books, but stay out late
Some nights, some nights, and don't think
That you can't stop by the bar
You haven't shown your face here since the bad news
Well I'm here till close, with fingers crossed
Each night cause your place isn't far
And hours pass, and hours pass, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, 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
A little less bruised

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Andrew Ross Mcmahon