ABRACADABRA written by J.Y. Frimpong & Akosua Dufie Boakye

They call it magic

Magic when I elevate in front of them

Magic, my precious jewel

A possession I will bequeath to you dear daughter

A treasure that will bring all your dreams to life

They call it magic, when I get lost in the cupboard

They call it magic, when I make them happy

Magic when we make the impossible happen.

So go ahead and cut me into two

 Say it triumphantly 'abracadabra'

Oh! Let the cheers subside your suspense

Golly! Laugh loudly like the pendulum clock

With Papa and I

They say

Aw, we sniff savouriness

Ah! They know not

That Papa and I

Ne'er do well

Ha! They 'heareth' not

Papa and I

Adroit 'bunkos'

Papa! Tonight the wind

Howls, swirls powerfully

Its effacing my body in disarray

Say it

Papa... 'Abracadabra'

The wind still howls

Papa 'sayeth'

Abracadabra!

 It’s the fault in the stars

Don't put my soul on the open road of pain

No drug, no abracadabra can cure you

And you know it.

If I could, I would have

But it so happens that

It’s not everything that magic can cure

And it’s something beyond our comprehension

The alienation that magic presents!

Yes they call it magic

We call it magic

But we all know that in truth

Like my body it only cuts our dreams

And hopes into two

 Papa, in you

Is a 'muchacho'

I run crestfallen forth

To the oak tree of old

I beseech fervently

The fresh marine of the valleys

I envisage holistically

The smell of the opened sunflower

Is it west or east?

Papa, sayeth not 'abracadabra'

Show me Papa

The same oak tree of old

The oak tree of old

 Feel me, feel the scars that mark my body

I scream in my mind, when I see you

This art is what keeps blood in our veins

Food in our stomach.

It is mere pretense, antiquated tricks

The small whisper, the thin wire

The glue and all the dark tricks

Maybe it’s time that I wake up to reality

Wake up and accept my failure

I could have been an oasis of hope

You could have been the perfection you always wanted

But I chose magic

And I chose your ruin

Go on and paint the failure right on my face

 Papa

Glisten thy colours

There is a 'mujer' in your wand

Peguin in your chant

Papa

Sayeth not Abracadabra

Our walls thimbled

Yet we will build with thickest honey

Swerve, the sin of the king 'diabolic'

His seduction

No Papa

Sayeth not Abracadabra

Shh! Sayeth not.