Since the beginning we’ve been spinning our wheels
trying to love, digging in our heels
wondering how could the angel tugging on our sleeve
not be real?
We deal the cards and read the signs and step in line with fate
and finding Heaven’s gate, we hope it’s not too late —
we’ve dispelled the magician but in magic we
still have faith!
gotta make it, gotta make it, gotta make it
gotta make it, make sense
gotta make it, make love
gotta make it, make believe
gotta make it, make enough
for you and me.
Beauty sits upon a stone and tries to prove me wrong
she sings all alone a far away song
that goes “I wasn’t born inside you and
I won’t die when you do…
carry on!”
I try to sing along but my voice it doesn’t fit
it tramples beauty is begging me to quit
and I’m tired and willing,
limping through a field of violet.
the last thing that Wisdom said, lying on his deathbed
was “don’t let the things you know go to your head”
then he took a breath, let out a laugh
said “O no,” and then was dead.
i put pennies on his eyes and climbed up on a fence
satisfied thinking, well, that’s my two cents.
Then surrounded I surrendered, to let my song be rendered
by silence.