1073604600000
ruined puzzle
(jag låter Dashboard Confessional tala för mig - Chris Carabba har som vanligt de rätta orden)

This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down.
So the placing goes slowly, 
the pictures of anything other than it’s meant to be.
But the hours they creep, 
the patterns repeat,
Dont be concerned, 
I know I’ll be fine on my own
I never said ”Don’t go.” 
Don’t go.

I’ve written a note, 
it’s pressed between pages,
that you’ve marked to find your way back.
It says, ”Does he ever get the girl?”
But what if the pages stay pressed, the chapters unfinished,
the stories too dull to unfold?
”Does he ever get the girl?”

Well this basements a coffin, I’m buried alive.
I’ll die in here just to be safe.
I’ll die in here just to be safe.
’Cause you’re gone, I get nothing
And you’re off with barely a sigh
I never said, ”Goodbye.”

But I’ve hidden a note, its pressed between pages,
that you’ve marked to find your way back
It says, ”Does he ever get the girl?”
But I’ve hidden a note, its pressed betwen pages,
that you’ll read if you’re so inclined.
”Does he ever get the girl?”

But the hours they creep, the patterns repeat.
Dont be concerned, I know I’ll be fine on my own.
I never said ”Don’t go.”
Don’t go.
”Does he ever get the girl?”