Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers,
These will always remind me of him,
Of a boy that I can no longer claim to know.

Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers,
I always hated the fact that his hands
looked looked how I felt.

Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers,
the sign that I hadn't got there in time,
I hadn't stepped between him and the wall,
the wall that he so desperately want to crash against.

Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers,
it always ended this way;
the feeling still lingers.