Maths & Magic - Josh Pyke

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

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