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• Artiste: M.T. Bearington
• Titre: Bright Magicians
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Your body looks much older, then your loose laced books Binding themes of colors, eyeing fatherless crooks Sifting through the darkness these thieves are feeling Their lonely mother's hearts, her breasts were born stealing Your young eyes are drying, salted by the sea Drawing on the crew, tones of past dreams I want to be ashamed, I want you to feel the same We get along with words, and could still widely curves Through curly weather, we made fools of tone benders The thunder despises the lightning for ignoring all of its frightening A world of bright magicians appeared as sad musicians They knew the secret to life, a tribe that fears the night Grab a hold of dusty moons Wrap ribbons of clean moons Fear is the only news Your dusty mouth will spew