Witch Pope

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The God Awful Small Affairs

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He's named after a book he's never read
He carries a copy around in his back pocket
To startle strangers out of thoughts that they've left unsaid
For a starter
For a conversation

He likes to measure my goodness in musicians that are dead
He talks of hard times as fanciful yet he's never used cardboard for insulation
I have I have I have I have 

When I first met him with his belt and his shoes cinched tight
Swear to god I did not want his attention
Sat across from him at tables and said don't you look my way
Others might see you as on the level but I sense your thirst for ascension

With a single light bulb haloed over his head
In crowded basements he said
Competition has no place
In love
I thought
Is this the sentiment I've been fighting off?

And now he's

Playing poker with the same cards I'm reading the future
He says 'ante up''
I say 'we're running out of time'
I search for sage to cleanse lay it down
Confused he says ' you know this isn't money so it means that you don't win'
And while multitasking setting fires I want to curse him for being blind
Because
He's a magician and I'm a witch pope
I'm cerebral into stasis
And he's confused by every line
I'm lonely in this balance
But he's too busy climbing ladders he's made in his mind
Said those ladders that you're climbing are just in your mind
You saw me as a door
Now all I see is a tar pit
He says ' what do you think about next year central heating and air and carpet?'
But I'm miles away thinking about what god whispered yesterday
It's hard to hear magic in the city
It's hard to hear magic in the city
It's hard to hear magic in the city

There's no place for competition in love
There's no place for competition in love

He's a magician and I'm a witch pope
I'm cerebral into stasis
And he's confused by every line
It's hard to hear magic in the

I'm lonely in this balance
But he's too busy climbing ladders he's made in his mind
There's no place for competition in love
Those ladders that you're climbing are just in your mind
You saw me as a door
I'm sorry I became a tar pit
As the lighting fades on the archetypal face cards we play the truth begins to sharpen

That it's hard to hear magic in the city
And competition has no place in love
Maybe it was too hard to be magic in a city
But was it really just my magic that you were dreaming of?

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