Three Ring Circus - Botanica

With a gambler’s pick

My velvet bag of tricks

I conjured up a sorceress

Made me forget

What was remiss

She took my hand

Turned my rags to silk

And our blood flowed strong and thick

AND ALL THE MAGIC THAT WE RODE INTO A 3 RING CIRCUS TENT I DOVE

I raised my glass, she poured the wine

My vision blurred and all was clear

The clowns in tears, the flyer’s fears

And like a top, the tent began to spin and the stars fell through the seams

AND ALL THE MAGIC THAT WE RODE INTO A 3 RING CIRCUS TENT I DOVE

Flames reach up

The heat is more than I can--Bare--my skin, shedding from within