There is a spell.
Under which we stand.
We should not talk more.
So it commanded the ban.
Everyone knows what I'm talking about.
We are as dead
It is the spell.
Of us eats.
No "No!" More.
Nots, countable.
I said "we"?
I am not under that spell.
He did not reach.
Yes, I know about him, but he is not for me.
I know him so well that he certainly does not with me.
The ban is for the devoted things.
I know its mode of action and know who and how and why it imposed.
Yes, dear Banisher such as that
You will be more apparent with each passing day.
So, as my arm is growing.
You understand that now is not likely, as the Green at the corner, but to most of you is nothing.
Because mind you is a foreign word.
What should you do with it?
So you ask yourself, if at all, squinting at the espresso.
Be the yet granted.
Where is the spell you will finally lead but yourself: Have you ever considered that?
Pretty empty question: Most of you do not.
You know nothing.
If one is honest with you sometimes.
You know not even know what a spell.
And especially one who is such when, how, where and breaks.
That you still do not know.
Tags: spell
So it is written in Scripture to song by Seal.
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/seal/futureloveparadise.html
Live today.