His Perfection

Paul kicks up trash on a dirty street.

A few pages dance away in the wind.

They cause a deep breath and a lusty sigh

When he compares them to his rosalind.

Early on roz was a sight to behold,

And she always made him feel like a man,

But paul thinks time's been cruel to her form

The way the ocean wears away at the sand.

Chorus

His perfection is a neon light.

It stains his flashing eye.

And the after-image in his head at night

Is nothing but a lie.

He wants his world to be a perfect one,

Says she no longer fills his needs.

So he crams her into iron clothes,

And gives her steel bread dough to knead.

Chorus

His perfection is a neon light.

It stains his flashing eye.

And the after-image in his bed at night

Is nothing but a lie.