You're a collection of flaws to me,
flaws I've accepted.
You've got an outline made of crooked lines,
trying to be smooth.
Another flaw, probably the worst of them all,
your greatest time waster.
Sometimes I feel like a slowly burning match with you,
I can almost feel that it's our time to be blown out for the summer.
However, the more we repeat, the longer the match is and the sweeter the smoke.