Oh my dear what have we here

Seven fifty five

Oversleeping children sprawled

Schoolbus at the drive

We burn the toast we howl and wail

And so begin the race

But i could never turn my back

On this imperfect grace

Some days rosy some days bad

Some just very strange

People grow and people leave

And never know they change

I'd like to hold them under glass

When everything's in place

But i could never interrupt

This imperfect grace

Let the legislation lay

For things i cannot change

Let the chords fall where they may

I will not complain

I'd like to trip where angels tread

And ask them to embrace

And help me never take for granted

This imperfect grace