I wonder where this will go.
I can't pretend to begin to see.
Simply trying to go with the flow.
Neither of us are perfect, not you or me.
As we move down this road called life,
perfect angels we're definitely not,
but as you read this here tonight
I tell you perfection's fleeting,
but you've perhaps been caught.
An enigma, you certainly are,
one which I tend to believe.
Look up to the moon and stars,
and every night see the same ones as me.
So if a perfect angel is what you seek
I'm afraid you have the wrong guy,
but if you'll take me for who I am
then mostly it'll be sunshine and rainbows in the sky.