I don’t ever want to be a grown up,
“Childish,” though, I also don’t want to be called.
We act by our convenience / We act here inside this town,
Under the thought that real magicians is what we are,
That indeed we are, force ourselves to believe we are.

Offering up our flesh as the sacrifice,
Such incredible magic comes about:
My plea to perish & my longing to live,
Conflicting clash, bounding out loose free by my cast.

I don’t ever want to be a grown up,
“Childish,” though, I also don’t want to be called.
My pencil in the bin / My eraser in the bin,
Under the thought that real magicians is what we are,
That indeed we are, force ourselves to believe we are.

Offering up our flesh as the sacrifice,
Such incredible magic comes about:
My plea to perish & my longing to live,
Conflicting clash, bounding out my feet run.
Make me even more insane. Far ahead I sprint on so ceaselessly,
Offering up my flesh as sacrifice.
This incantation of magic, at a place so far distant,
Conflicting clash, bounds it out loose freed by my cast.

My plea to perish; my longing to live,
Conflicting, conflicting, bounding out all so free.
My plea to perish; my longing to live,
Conflicting, conflicting—

This incantation of magic never stops: screeds by screeds,
Such incredible magic comes about:
My plea to perish & my longing to live,
Conflicting clash, bounding out my feet run.
Make me even more insane. Far ahead I sprint on so ceaselessly,
Offering up my flesh as sacrifice.
This incantation of magic, at a place so far distant,
Conflicting clash, bounds it out loose freed by my cast.

You know that’s all infeasible,
You know that’s all infeasible,
You know it’s in truth not infeasible,
So cast the spell.
You know that’s all infeasible,
You know that’s all infeasible,
You know it’s in truth not infeasible,
So cast the spell.
This is my flesh magic.
This is my flesh magic.
So cast the spell.
This is my flesh magic.
This is my flesh magic.