Perfect

He carves the lines

In perfect a thousand times

And soon it will be

He sings a song

It's out of tune

It's all wrong

And soon it will be

His hands, they shake

Aface in not pine

And soon it will be

His lanterns he lights

Can luminate his life

And soon it will be

He tries to build

The fog lights can't be filled

And soon it will be

His hands they shake

Aface in not in pine

And soon it will be

And it sits in his right hand

But he never understands

And while nothing's getting done

He's just waiting to become