the listless lime lighters

have all been dried out

by there spot light

bellow the streets

the underground

is lit by moonlight

where last dancing light

meets its end

and i wander the streets

with a cane and a top hat

as an illusionist

comming to resent the

term magician

let that tittle be reserved

 for the witch doctors

in white coats

i whistle and walk

as the poor beg for change

and i make coins apear

behind there ear

how many canniries

must be crushed

for the entertainment

of smiles

begging fools

of trickery

the card up my sleeve

is my prestige

reveling the trick

after every show

and every evening

i reinvent the wheel

a slight of hand

and misinformation

and I dissapear

into the darkness

of the underground

where the only sound

is water

and the light is limited

in the purgatory

of lost souls

let your laughter

and wonder

lead them home

to an unimgianble

paradise

blinded by the limelight

forgotting the walk

underneath the streets

past holy midnights

and into wicked morning

the balance of divine

is divided by a single thread

of silk twine

and in time

like all things man made

will be reveled

and there will be no more

performances

all will wash in gray

till we are amazed

in amber waves of grace