Maths & Magic

Josh Pyke

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    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

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    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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