Lyrics
I’m not a magician but I turn pain into art
In the gallery of grief I play my part
A conjurer of canvas where sorrows start
In the trick of the trade i throw my heart
I pull hope from the hat of hurt no sleight of hand
In the illusion of the impossible I take my stand
A prestidigitator of the poignant I command
In the performance of the profound I expand
I vanish despair with a wave of my wand
In the act of the ages I respond
A sorcerer of the soulful I'm beyond
In the craft of the crestfallen I'm fond
I levitate above the lows with grace
In the abracadabra of the abyss I trace
A wizard of the woeful I embrace
In the enchantment of the earnest I place
I transmute trials into triumphs no trickery in sight
In the alchemy of the anguished I ignite
A shaman of the shadows I invite
In the ritual of the raw I write
I metamorphose misery into masterpieces no facade
In the spell of the suffering I applaud
A mage of the melancholy I'm not flawed
In the magic of the mournful I'm awed
I'm the illusionist of the introspective no mirrors or smoke
In the presto of the pensive I evoke
A warlock of the wistful I provoke
In the charm of the challenged I stoke
I'm not a magician but my art is my allure
In the prestidigitation of the pure I'm sure
A maestro of the meaningful I endure
In the sleight of the spirit I'm the cure
In the gallery of life, I hang dreams in the air
A conjurer of courage, where fears dare not tread
In the art of the heart, my passion is spread
I weave wonder from the woes, no deception in play
In the theater of the thrumming, I boldly portray
A sorcerer of solace, in the limelight I stand
In the drama of the deep, I offer my hand
I erase anguish with an artist's gentle touch
In the spectacle of the soulful, I give so much
A charmer of the cheerless, with empathy I bond
In the gallery of the genuine, I respond
I rise above the ruins with a painters poise
In the murals of the muted, I find my voice
A magician of the muted, in sorrow I find grace
In the frescoes of the fervent, I leave my trace
I transform torment into tales that triumph
In the forge of the forlorn, my spirits alight
A healer in the hush, to the shadows I beckon
In the narrative of the night, my verses quicken
I sculpt serenity from the stones of strife
In the tableau of the tearful, I breathe life
A weaver of the wistful, Im perfectly cast
In the mosaic of the mournful, my spells are vast
Im the illusionist of the innermost, no tricks up my sleeve
In the presto of the profound, in wonders I believe
A warlock of the wistful, with a gentle provoke
In the tapestry of the tested, I kindle hope
Im not a magician, but in my art, I find my call
In the enchantment of existence, I stand tall
A maestro of the meaningful, through trials I endure
In the sleight of the spirit, I am the cure
Im not a magician, but in my art, I find my call
In the enchantment of existence, I stand tall
A maestro of the meaningful, through trials I endure
In the sleight of the spirit, I am the cure
[Guitar Virtuoso solo fade out big finish]
