Borders between imagination and real are unclear,
Shoulders are just to heavy to breathe, without magical place to create.
Feary lights and some shade under the oak tree will subserve for that, oh life, Here and now magic starts.
What makes magic magic? It's a soul call for creative expresion, me and the rock, guitar and verse; let's enjoy the ride on the New place for art!
Shoulders are just to heavy to breathe, without magical place to create.
Feary lights and some shade under the oak tree will subserve for that, oh life, Here and now magic starts.
What makes magic magic? It's a soul call for creative expresion, me and the rock, guitar and verse; let's enjoy the ride on the New place for art!
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