Perfection
Perfection was not my objective,
I end up falling short most of the time.
But you set a standard, one I can’t handle
And now I’m left groping for a graceful exit.

Aim high are words I can live by,
But then you take it to another extreme
To falter is to fail, you live for the details,
I think that that’s my cue to leave.

You like right angles and straight lines.
Life’s little neatnesses appeal to you.
You found me so hard to define.
You keep your life on the bedside table,
I like things a little more unstable.


Demand and Supply

It’s not just a matter of demand and supply,
That’s the same old lie they’ve been feeding us forever.
Make it sweet, make it bland, with a touch of contraband,
You can have them in your hand
And keep them there forever.

Make ‘em yell, yell for more, like it’s 1964
With the Beatles out on tour, or maybe it’s Ed Sullivan
But now it’s all lame, you just make it sound the same,
You can have your shot at fame and maybe be on TRL.

From time to time, I get sucked in.
Don’t stand too close, they’ll dig right in.

Take ‘em blond, take ‘em fresh, while they still have baby flesh
To appeal to every letch making eyes at the television.
It’s money and power deflowering the flower,
Dress it up in a bow and put it on the internet.

They define what it good, it don’t matter if they should,
At this point all their eyes can see is the bottom line.
Here’s the thing, here’s the deal, all they want is mass appeal,
It don’t matter if it’s real, just so long as they’re moving it.

It’s not just a matter of demand and supply,
That’s the same old lie they’ve been feeding us forever.
Make it sweet, make it bland, with a touch of contraband,
You can have them in your hand
And keep them there forever.

Take ‘em blond, take ‘em fresh, while they still have baby flesh
To appeal to every letch making eyes at the television.
We’re just pawns in the game as our integrity is maimed
And our straits will be the same until we all stand up and say no.

Dream Angel
Our conversation left me shaken,
But I sat with my head up high
In the darkness of your car,
I sat there listening to you cry.
16 months and 5 days,
Maybe it’s apathy creeping in.
I feel myself giving up,
I feel myself giving in.
But maybe it just hasn’t hit me.

I wrote a love song for you,
When we were barely 6 months in.
You can keep it as a testament
To exactly where we stood then.
I would not ever take it back,
I think that’s one for you to keep.
Maybe we were both just naïve,
Maybe we were both in too deep.

But maybe it just hasn’t hit me.

I wanted so much more than you could ever deliver.
You needed so much more than I could ever give.

Dream angel, dream angel, will you be mine?
My darling dear, love you for all time.
I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you.

But maybe it just hasn’t hit me.
More lyrics please!