She said she liked my song
But not the tasteless arrangement
My melodies are like pigs, she said
And roll in muddy firmament
And her dark eyes had kohl and looked wet in the room
Here she knew she could judge me
Knew her look meant my doom
Looking for a flat or a word out of place
She could cut me and see the pain on my face
My whittling thirds and a seventh out of time
I cut it too quickly like the green off a lime
She knew how it hurt to squeeze some flavor from truth
Still she shot down my song
Called it tasteless, uncouth
Then she asked me for dope money
And I gave her a ten
Till next time she cuts me
When we do this again
And as she left me alone
So her arm could seize joy
I’m here tasteless in waiting
For those with taste to destroy
Beauty is Imperfection 