Lonely on a summers night at home
A touch, a laugh, sick of being alone 
No number to fill this space on his mobile phone
That card he found on the bench in the park
A random direction as throwing a picked up stone

Working every hour that this God sends 
A TV life has it's perfection, everybody has a friend
Maybe it's authors have yet to meet a man like me 
A life yet to comprehend 
She sounds nice on the call but that's how it's supposed to be
The perfect girl would never just fall from the nearest tree

Money in the wall for a stack of our queens head
Cash only my love for these knickers on the floor and 10 minutes in your bed
Life has it's imperfection and for these he's sometimes flawed
But your only here once and a long time dead, 6 feet under this grassy worm ridden floor,

But hey,

Nobody's perfect


JJB