Well its a fragile tension, thats keeping us going.
It may not last forever, but of all wind is blowing.
Theres something magical in the air.
Some things so tragic we have to care.
Its a strange obsession, its drawing us nearer.
We dont understand it, it never gets clearer.
Theres something mystical in our dreams.
Theyre so simplistic it kicks and screams.
Oh when we see too recon the art occult that nothing can keep us down.
Its a dizzying feeling thats keeping us flying.
Some glittering gauntlet, without even trying.
Theres something magical in our hands.
Nothing logical to our plans.