Ballad of A Tin Man

Eden melts like statued Oz,
The horizon sunset is gold road,
Four travelers on a setting wagon,
It's wheels ready to corrode,
Upon the path where bare feet tred,
Lie cupid's broken arrows,
I watched as the cowardly immortal lion,
Disfigured the sure-minded scarecrow,
Tin man walked through sun lit fields,
It didn't matter where he rode,
The Lion escorted Dorothy out,
And heaved himself into a moat,
Packing an oil can with him,
Knowing that it could not float,
The sea then engulfed the tin man,
And he sank like a foothold boat

The two marched on horizon gold,
Upon a road that never bent,
The map they used to travel with,
Made their sturdy, stable tent,
Footprints lodged inside the hills,
They must all dream alone,
All the dreams they once held dear,
Shattered like straw bones,
Behind an old run down coffee house,
In a garden that is never seen,
The tin man picked his paint brush up,
And depicted untold dreams,
The lion painted a box over them,
With all the dreams secured inside,
And while Dorothy pondered its meaning,
The two ran inside the box to hide