- published: 12 Apr 2015
- views: 14020233
Magic is the art of producing a desired effect or result through the use of incantation or various other techniques that presumably assure human control of supernatural agencies or the forces of nature. Magic has been practiced in many cultures, and utilizes ways of understanding, experiencing and influencing the world somewhat akin to those offered by religion, though it is sometimes regarded as more focused on achieving results than religious worship. Magic is often viewed with suspicion by the wider community, and is commonly practiced in isolation and secrecy.
Modern Western magicians generally state magic's primary purpose to be personal spiritual growth. Modern perspectives on the theory of magic broadly follow two views, which also correspond closely to ancient views.[citation needed] The first sees magic as a result of a universal sympathy within the universe, where if something is done here a result happens somewhere else. The other view sees magic as a collaboration with spirits who cause the effect.
You are the bright, white light in my streets of darkness
A storyteller with wings I envy
Baby, I've been waiting for you, waiting for you all my life
What did I know before you came?
One in million flowers on my pillow
One of kind hands reaching out to me
Baby, you're my shining armour; beauty and dressed to kill
Nothing I know can be the same
I wanna dance; pick me up and turn me round
One foot out, one foot down, all my senses hit the ground
I close my eyes, I feel so free, and it comes so easily
It Can Be Magical... It Can Be Magical
My little hero, never short of wonder
Wherever we go racing it's to win
Straight into the arms of parlours, straight into the halls of fame
Into this handsome honeymoon
I wanna dance; pick me up and turn me round
One foot out, one foot down, all my senses hit the ground
I close my eyes, I feel so free, and it comes so easily
It Can Be Magical... It Can Be Magical
I want to fly for real
I want to get high for real this time
Cause magic we're made of, a mystic parade of desires... desires...
I was a picture of a prima donna that was stranded on the edge of town
Only a face without a name...
Now, I wanna dance; pick me up and turn me round
One foot out, one foot down, all my senses hit the ground
I close my eyes, I feel so free, and it comes so easily