Magic lyrics

Why all the madness? Absolute truth is just a loaded gun You point at the masses That follow a practice of a different one So show me your magic Now how do you dance to it? What type of fabric are you cut from? Cause my culture needs imagination (Loss for words so I'll make a sound) I think this could be my calling Bring your blood up to a boil We are addicted to the noises So plug your feet right into soul I think this could be my calling Bring your blood up to a boil We are addicted to the noises So plug your feet right into soul Why all the madness? Absolute truth is just a loaded gun You point at the masses That follow a practice of a different one So show me your magic Now how do you dance to it? What type of fabric are you cut from? 'Cause my culture needs imagination