Nothing I've ever written or said
To which I couldn't make deletions
Corrections or additions in red
Of course I believe in perfection
Or what's the point in striving
But perfection's oversold
It's love that makes me bold
Love of my imperfections
The focus of my distractions
I mine like foolish gold
And you the authorship of my soul
What wondrous love is this
I croak and sing off-tune
Finding you in my ruin
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