Donuts in a Six Speed

How much time is too much time?
When my island eyes fall right in stride

I can't make peace with what works
I just get tired of digging up dirt
But you are the space between days
And I pretend I, I can lead you some place

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
I 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
I 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"
"You can sing out loud"
"Without making a sound"

But I could get comfortable with
The existence of magic