Paul kicks up trash on a dirty street
   A few pages dance away in the wind
   They cause a deep breath and a lusty sigh
   when he compares them to his Rosalind
  
   Early on Roz was a sight to behold
   and she always made him feel like a man
   But Paul thinks times's been cruel to her form
   the way the ocean wears away at the sand
  
   CHORUS:
   His perfection is a neon light
   It stains his flashing eye
   And the after-image in his head at night
   is nothing but a lie
  
   He wants his world to be a perfect one
   says she no longer fills his needs
   so he crams her into iron clothes
   and gives her steel bread dough to knead
  
   CHORUS:
   His perfection is a neon light
   It stains his flashing eye
   And the after-image in his bed at night
   is nothing but a lie