im not searching for perfect im perfecting my search to pay the debt they say is high above town its buried deep and its shallow ill pan the rivers tomorrow with the hope that i make my way home to a place where our love could have grown if the rain fell in sheets and washed everything clean then i would be miserable and youd kneel in the attic of you fathers apartment youd pray lord what can i do but im not asking him im asking you at the top of the morning and the bottom of night you were sleeping closer to him and i wept in the stairwell to our love i said farewell i had just let you go to the god that id never know