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Donuts in a Six Speed - Dikembe
How much time is too much time
My island eyes fall right in stride
Can't make peace with what works
I just grow tired of digging up dirt
Say you are the space between days
I pretend I can lead you some place
But I'm not concerned with
The existence of magic
I need something concrete
To make use of these new feet
A chorus of little fingers
Singing for magnetic hands
Just need a bit of space
Too often I get caught up
Wishing for what was
And running out of air
Always tired arms on fire
Just can't catch a break
My basic instincts are always changing
Just enough to say
You can sing out loud
You can sing out loud
Sing out loud
Without making a sound
I could get comfortable
With the existence of magic
