Aging & Wisdom Quote by Johnny Mercer

Mercer takes the oldest pop feeling in the book - being wrecked by attraction - and gives it teeth. “Old black magic” isn’t just a cute metaphor; it’s a way of making desire feel like something happening to you, not something you chose. The speaker doesn’t say “I want you.” He says he’s under a spell, pinned by “icy fingers,” his body reacting before his mind can negotiate. That shift in agency is the trick: romance framed as possession lets the lyric indulge obsession while dodging responsibility. He’s not needy; he’s bewitched.

The craft is in the contradiction. Magic is usually warm and enveloping, but Mercer goes cold: “icy fingers up and down my spine.” That tactile image turns flirtation into a shiver of fear, suggesting that what’s irresistible is also slightly dangerous. It’s lust rendered as a haunted-house sensation, an adult thrill that still has the pulse of adolescent superstition. “The same old witchcraft” admits repetition - he’s been here before, he’ll be here again - which is both a wink and a confession of cyclical vulnerability.

Context matters: written for the big-band era, this is swing-age glamour with a noir shadow. The “black magic” and “witchcraft” vocabulary taps a 1930s-40s fascination with the exotic and the occult, selling sophistication through a controlled brush with taboo. Mercer’s intent is to make seduction sound cinematic: not a conversation, a close-up - the moment “your eyes meet mine” and the room tilts.