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