Houdini

If I play my cards right, with my hand of hearts, I could hold every witch- way,

because, I believed in the magic of love at first sight.

So, at night,

I ride the broom you used to sweep me of my feet -

You're so fly

like a winter's sky;

so cool like a blizzard; 

so wizard,

it's wicked oustanding.

And so, I'm under your command and

in the palm of your hand and

you can do whatever you plan,

'cause

this feeling that's come over me is so complex

I stress,

I feel i'm being possessed

and yes!

I'm certain you've got a hex

on me.

I can't focus.

This affection - this hocus-pocus

has plagued my mind and body like toads and locus,

but, it's the love bug that's biting.

And it's a love spell you're reciting.

It's the charm in your eyes so inviting -

it's these feelings I'm fighting

but I'm no Mayweather.

And it makes no difference whether

I want us to be together

because I'm bound by a binding spell,

just as I'm bound to hell,

because I choose to dwell

in the arms of a Wiccan.

I decided to dance in a ring of fire and now I'm burning up for you.

I can smell the scent of your wizardry; I can feel your voodoo 

and taste your witchcraft.

I can hear whispers in the wind

because the win-

dows of your soul 

have a draft.

Your eyes tell a story... and I sit around the bonfire and actively listen to your heart.

You meddle with my thoughts.

I see you when you aren't there

AND I SWEAR

we romp about the fields in my dreams.

Make no mistake, I'm on your team;

You pull a rabbit out of your hat

and I tip my hat

to you.

The audience is appalled

and in the midst of the thunderous applauds,

my hand goes out to you.

YOU SAW ME - in half -

although I'd rather sit back and laugh

Letting you take the lead because I'm your assistant;

I can't do no card tricks

or fly on broomsticks

or make hexes

that vexes

the spirit

this is the truth

so hear it.

In truth,

my youth,

I can't play with no hocus-pocus

or voodoo or both it's...

TOO MUCH FOR ME;

I "AIN'T NO HOUDINI!"

That's why I drown in your chamber of smiles and lock of heart

so don't have a change of heart

And make me disappear.

Let's make one thing clear:

I can't levitate;

I always hesistate.

I can't stur up these feelings in your cauldron, like you do, so well.

No! I can't, very well,

mess with the spirits and exercise them because I'm too busy running toward your racing heart

and I start

to say

that it's folly when I pray

and to no avail that I say

nor cite a scripture, because you are my demon.

I dare not rebuke you.

I cannot possibly substitute you,

so therefore, I salute you,

You Dark Magician; you sorceress;

you necromancer,  you demoness.

We are human, not dancer.

So, "riddle me this:" 

When I die, will you have the answer

to bring me to life?

You're vurtue spreads like a virus - A CANCER -

and now I've got love all over me - THAT'S RIGHT!

And I'm safe in it's arms, because you are love -

in and of

itself.

So it's true! 

I can tell you've never tasted Black Magic -

[O!] how tragic.

Yet, you hold all the magic,

because, I'm no Criss, but I can be your Angel -

of  darkness -

in the darkness -

just conjure me

and you will see 

that we...

yes we

can make our own magic.