D F#m
When a little boy thinks he’s superman
Em A
then he almost can, he almost can fly.
D F#m
When he takes his toy truck and moves it through the sand
Em A
the boy moves mountains with his little hand.
D A
And the world really is magic.
Bm D
Nothing could be clearer, nothing could be clearer.
D A
Then somebody says, “no, it’s all a trick
Bm D
done with smoke and mirrors.” Cigarettes and make-up, last call.
Whenever a man is down upon his knees
more than likely he’s praying for redemption.
But when a little boy prays unto the lord
he can almost hear the lord listenin’.
And the world really is magic.
Nothing could be clearer, nothing could be clearer.
Then somebody says, “no, it’s all a trick
done with smoke and mirrors.” Cigarettes and make-up, last call.
When a little boy thinks he’s superman
then he almost can, he almost can fly.
So close to dreams, so far from trials
and I’m that little boy again every once in awhile.
And the world really is magic.
Nothing could be clearer, nothing could be clearer.
Then somebody says, “no, it’s all a trick
done with smoke and mirrors.” Cigarettes and make-up, last call.