Magic

MAGIC
Abracadabra, I wish for you to be here
Fly with the stars and whatever’s there
I believe in magic and all its glory and form
And combed my hair in prospect of the storm
Wand in my hand, you can play in a band
Symbols, mantras and spells, I use as I stand.

Out west is where I went, alone in my escape
If not, I comfort myself with a seedless grape
Waiting for you until the sun goes down
The date, at least to me, is yet unknown
The baying was so many miles away
Yellow as the sun and bright as the day.

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