Tulsa's Last Magician | Willi Carlisle

🎵 Tulsa's Last Magician | Willi Carlisle 🎵

Length: 0:5:6
Tulsa's Last Magician - Written by Willi Carlisle Goehring
Recorded Live April 29, 2023
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Lyrics:
Well Tulsa's last magician got his start at four
Pulled a quarter from his own ear and spun it on the floor
Since there's no good tricks but old ones and lyin' ain't that hard
He saved up all his quarters and he bought a deck of cards
And he learned ragtime piano, though his teacher thought him slow
Got a black belt in karate from a pawn shop video
And he'd practice all his worst mistakes in a dirty bathroom mirror
And when his mother drank, he learned to disappear
And his classmates thought him funny and good at sleight of hand
But he had this grand finale they refused to understand
It's hard to tell the whole truth of a family sawed in half
And that's why Tulsa's last magician left his home so fast
Well down and out in Reno, broke in Santa Fe
Turnin' tricks on Los Sueñeros out in the Californ-i-ay
They pushed him up against a wall, said buddy get a grip
So he learned to set himself on fire on the Las Vegas strip
Then he wandered down to Tampa, blew everybody's mind
'Cause the crowd was cheap and easy there,
On beer and blow and wine
They said I wonder where my dollar went,
How'd the flower bloom so fast
He said I can't reveal my secret, though they rarely failed to ask
And the crowd all thought him funny, and good at sleight of hand
But he had this grand finale they refused to understand
They demanded explanation when the card pulled was their own
And that's why Tulsa's last magician lost his faith and headed home
Well he said he'd learn computers, like his second foster dad
And free-range all the rabbits that were livin' in his hat
His investments all went swimmingly, he had the boss on hidden strings
His promotions were a certainty, he could make the numbers sing
Now time and space is easy for magic to control
Still it was forty years of workin' 'fore he noticed he was old
And now his great escaping act is just untying both his shoes
And most days he's in the easy chair, yellin' at the news
And the weatherman is funny and talkin' with his hands
But black clouds are comin' in, and no one understands
That somebody's true religion's always someone else's joke
And that's why Tulsa's last magician pretty much went up in smoke
So friend if you're the kind that thinks
No one quite gets quite what you are
Like you're cobbler or mechanic in this age of flying cars
If you think that you see right behind what's right before our eyes
You might be a small town's last magician in disguise
And we need you to be funny, please be good at sleight of hand
'Cause there's a grand finale we can't hope to understand
And there's a 1 in 52 chance it's all magic and it's true
So won't you please help us believe in you?
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