Crowd stale, wholesale.
We're on the porch and there's a keg and you are quiet.
Wind shifts, I drift
to autumn. I tell Dom what I see.
She laughs at me.

Blast beat, we retreat.
And it's a lonely street, the burden of circumvention,
but fractions, like us,
fill cities and flats and cul-de-sacs.
So we yell over it and have a laugh.

And it's a laughable scenario,
peripheral motion picture show.
And I feel your eyes, and I stayed inside,
but it wouldn't work so I soak up your vice.
Tonight's a blur.

We meet.
You scare me.
See, I have met people from Maine and Athens, Georgia and Montreal.
And I'm dead, lips red,
licking sugar, I smile at everyone.
Formulated fun.


Lyrics submitted by carolinerosee, edited by ariennba

Magic City Wholesale song meanings
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