Mr. Imperfect

he's got a definitive white collar
bonded teeth
quaint smile
all the while when we meet
cracking our fingers
there's silence for some time
our eyes linger the room
but his eyes will turn quick
and come to meet mine

every man has his motions
every man has his day
but when he suddenly takes away
the sun
the night
the dawn
you blink twice and it's gone
from these feelings
i produce a most focused song
sometimes he drowns
in beer
sometimes he drowns
the sounds of his own fear
into a melancholy mess
that i am forced to pick up
then wash out
his saturday night
or is that his every night
drinking cup
he admits he's no picnic
he admits he's no prize
but when i look
into his eyes
i feel his soul reflect
trust me
within these walls
i, too, am mr. imperfect