Sometimes late when things are real
|
And people share the gift of gab between themselves
|
Some are quick to take the bait
|
And catch the perfect prize that waits among the shelves
|
|
But Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
|
That he didn't, didn't already have
|
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
|
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad.
|
|
So please believe in me
|
When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round
|
Smoke glass stain bright color
|
Image going down, down, down, down
|
Soapsuds green like bubbles
|
|
Oh, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
|
That he didn't, didn't already have
|
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
|
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad
|
|
So please believe in me
|
When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round
|
Smoke glass stain bright color
|
Image going down, down, down, down
|
Soapsuds green like bubbles
|
|
No, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
|
That he didn't, didn't already have
|
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
|
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad
|
|
So please believe in me
|
|
-----------------
|
Tin Man
|
| America |
