She's Perfect, So Flawless, I'm Not Impressed.

You Know I Used To Be The Back Porch Poet With My Book Of Lines, Always Hoping Knowing All The Time, I'm Probably Never Gonna Find The Perfect Rhyme. . .for Heavier Things

She's Perfect, So Flawless, I'm Not Impressed.

I'll Never Let Your Head Hit The Bed Without My Hand Behind It.

I Am Tempted To Keep The Car In Drive, And Leave It All Behind...

It's Very Liberating When You Finally Realize It's Impossible To Make Everyone Like You.