Sparks

Nothing in the world is perfect
Grin and bear it silently or yell into my ear
Complaints, it's my department
Complaints, it's my department
Everything you wear's too tight and clashes with the candlelight
Just give it back, no questions asked
Nothing in the world is perfect
Grin and bear it silently or yell into my ear
Complaints, stereophonic
Complaints, it's ironic
How they chatter, how they bore us like some avant- gardish chours
Just give it back, no questions asked
I'll dive off the mezzanine if one more points at crooked seams
A sign of shoddy workmanship, of Asiatic hands that slipped
Just give it back, no questions asked