THE MAGIC
Every sunrise cuts another mark in yesterday.
Every morning finds a way to keep me on my toes.
Walking through the streets of convoluted peace of mind.
Take a left and find the alley where nobody goes.
Sepe and I were talking idols with the hypocrites,
who found it best to keep their ears above the noise.
We dismantled their production of a theory,
and kept the conversation focused on the boys.
Disappearing acts of friendship keep me wondering
if I’ll ever find the tree inside the seed.
I’ve accounted for the turns that wrapped in circles.
I keep spinning through the hopes of what I need.
Seven midnights keep a tally of the usual.
Doors and latches falling in a row.
Take the key and break into a new dimension.
Find a place where all the pretty people go.
The music finds the magic,
like a needle in a hundred pounds of hay.
Watch your life through single flashes.
Keep the ones you learned to love along the way.
…and stop killing animals.