M.T. Bearington
Bright Magicians
Your body looks much older, then your loose laced booksBinding themes of colors, eyeing fatherless crooksSifting through the darkness these thieves are feeling Their lonely mother's hearts, her breasts were born stealingYour young eyes are drying, salted by the seaDrawing on the crew, tones of past dreamsI want to be ashamed, I want you to feel the sameWe get along with words, and could still widely curvesThrough curly weather, we made fools of tone bendersThe thunder despises the lightning for ignoring all of its frighteningA world of bright magicians appeared as sad musiciansThey knew the secret to life, a tribe that fears the nightGrab a hold of dusty moonsWrap ribbons of clean moonsFear is the only newsYour dusty mouth will spew
From Letras Mania