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When the skin and vessels underneath Choose the space for bruising I’m somewhere in between Clumsily pulling on the strings Oh, my mistakes are hardly that At the points of contact As the shades of grey grow redder I should have known better Soon the pain will be wrapped up As your skin regains its hue You’ll be rid of everything except me Oh, my mistakes are hardly that As the shades of grey grow redder I should have known That I’m only letting me get the best of me I’m only letting me get the best of me From Letras Mania