Oh my dear, you runneth over
With your cup of convoluted wares.
The Aftermath is sinking lower.
The perfect pales beyond compare.
Your garden's rushing to my head now.
Your guise will leave no stone unturned.
I'm paralyzed by your concoction.
Your sleight of hand keeps all my fingers burned.
I've searched the holy books and I've dogeared every page.
I've stolen secrets from a sorcerer's own sage.
Although a connoisseur of fine legerdemain.
I've just one word for you.
Extraordinary.
You're open to interpretation.
Like the trap door underneath your tousled throne.
And I'm engaged and I'm enraged and I'm enchanted.
With this little bit of magic I've been shown.
I've searched the holy books and I've dogeared every page.
I've stolen secrets from a sorcerer's own sage.
Although a connoisseur of fine legerdemain.
I've just one word for you.
Extraordinary.
Extraordinary.
Extraordinary.
And I've searched the holy books and I've dog-eared every page.
And I've stolen secrets from the sorcerer's own sage.
And, I'm rendered speechless in my pretty little rage.
But I'll save one word for you: