We had a house out in the 'burbsnI made my way up through the firmnKept the yard nice and pristinenand picture perfect so it seemednnOur welcome matte laid on the floornwe hung a wreath up on the doornbut then that letter came unwarnednnow perfect isn't very perfectnanymorennWe packed our things up in the carnI never shook so very hardnsearched the sky for signs of sunnand life had quickly come undonennMy wife was crying softly andnthe tear stained letter in her handncut us both down to the corennow perfect isn't very perfectnNo, perfect isn't quite the word for itnPerfect isn't very perfectnAnymore...