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 stained bright colors
Image going down, down, down, down
Soap suds, green light bubble

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 stained bright colors
Image going down, down, down, down
Soap suds, green light bubble

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

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Dewey Bunnell