Lyrics:

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