Perfection, oh, what a word…
You
talk and talk,
All day long.
I listen and think people are all
the same,
Sometimes I think our relationship is just a game.
Everyday
people tell me you are too good for me,
This moment, this second,
I'd believe every word said to me.
And
I know I'm not perfect,
Maybe you can save me.
But if not that's okay,
'Cause
it's not perfect;
Nothing is perfect.
These tears fall down pale cheeks,
Scars mark a body of beauty.
Smeared make-up down my face,
Wonder why I deserve this;
Do I deserve this?
And
everyday people tell me you are too good for me,
But it's this
moment, this second.
So yes, and oh yes, I'd believe every word they'd said to me.
Maybe
you can save me,
We all know I'm not perfect;
It's not
perfect.
And beauty;
Nothing is perfect.
People
are all the same,
Aren't they?
I
hear you talk and talk,
Every minute of every day.
People
are the same,
Could this be a game?
Will you save me?
Beauty,
although make-up smears my face, laden with tears,
Take away all
those horrible fears.
Can you, would you, could you…
Please Save Me!
