In a tornado of confusion
I was always stuck in Kansas
The tinman had no yellow bricks for me
And the lion, even less

Through emerald tinted spectacles
In a city where we're all the same
The wizard knows us through only applaud
Not through heart or lands we came

I click my heels a hundred times
But home is where the knowing end
The rest become great illusionists
As if the future is their friend

A full circle of whimsical hearts
Being nor a witch, a munchkin or scarecrow
In a labyrinth of smoke and fire
All while my hot air balloon is ready to go