Oh Mrs Carver next door, she overdoes her perfume.
I’ve spoken to her several times.
“Less is more dear-heart, less is more”.
A little less Cologne and more faith.
But every Sunday the fragrance wafts through my window.
I guess she doesn’t see Perfection the way I do.
And my X husband, now there’s a gem, a sapphire,
A diamond at the top of the tiara.
“No you don’t get to bash me anymore.”
Don’t look so disappointed sweetness.
I guess you don’t see Perfection the way I do.
Oh God forgive me,
I do see the Lightning fairy in Love,
I do hear the Angels singing.
I feel the warmth the Sun.
I guess you and I see Perfection the same way.