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Maths & Magic

Josh Pyke

Heavens above, I've seen this before
But no medicine I choose to use
Can cure this disease I abhor
And excuse me please, I need some air
And some relief from these cackling foos
And this sticky affair

Heavens above, we're all going to die
Scientists predict an inevitable assault from the sky
The craters they leave, will become the sea
And quietly the past is erased to wipe this dirty slate clean

But these songs I sing, are not my own
They get projected from you into me
I just give them a home
And this joy I feel, is yours' alone
If I could pass it to you through my fingertips
Then you would know
That I love you

And look at you now
It won't be long
No maths or magic can save you
If you can't see wrong
If you can't see right
You turn your back on
That which was once what you craved now you're cowering from

But these songs I sing, are not my own
They get projected from you into me
I just give them a home
And this joy I feel, is yours' alone
If I could pass it to you through my fingertips
Then you would know
That I love you

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