Magic

Between all my dullest thoughts and bright ideas I am prone to overthink this One toe after another cross the county line The wonders that I tend to dismiss Every single word I either said or sung is tied round my ankle as I’m flung Over the edge, into the deep Where I find you Staring at me! Tell me what I gotta know To find what I’m lookin for To find magic in the mundane Lookin for magic whenever I stumble upon an answer The nature of the question changes So all the truth I thought I held when I was young Is constantly rearranging I came up to the shore And in the thicket of the trees I saw your silhouette Moving slowly toward me There were eleven polished stones In the palm of your hand And the twelfth was in your mouth As you were licking off the sand your eyes we’re adjusted To the pigment of the deep they looked so oftly silent as you started to speak Sayin’ Love is the closest thing we got Do you really want to believe?