Imperfection
I embrace my own imperfection
My voice needs some corrections
My form is full of mutations
My mind's of strange [reflections] [contemplation]
My root's of scarred conviction
Yet am I hideous rejection?
What's so great about this "perfection"?
When it's all homogenization
Of a system mass production
Spreading like a mindless infection?
Is there beauty in imperfection?
Do you see beauty in imperfection?
Is there beauty in imperfection?
Do you see beauty in imperfection?
Do you see beauty in imperfection?
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