Oh! to be the tin man,
without a heart to be broken.
Free from the world of emotion
and the pains that it brings.

Oh! to be the tin man,
Free from all the fallacies of love,
free from all heart aches,
free from all the tears.

Oh! to be the scarecrow,
free from the burden of thinking.
living life as it happens
free from the burdens of the mind.

Oh! to be the scarecrow,
never wondering what the other is thinking
never thinking, never dreaming, never scheming
free from the burdens of the brain.

Oh! to be the cowardly lion
hiding in the shadows.
never having to face the fears of the day.
never having to face the world head on.

Oh! to be the cowardly lion
knowing that all is out of reach
that there is no reason to worry
for it was never meant for one as me.

But I am not the tin man
and a heart I have,
and with this broken heart
I am left to stand each day alone.

I am not the scarecrow
and in my brain I churn
searching for the answers
to how I lost my love.

And while I'll not admit it
to any bodies face
I am the cowardly lion
in every lowly trait.

There is no wizard for me,
to make pronouncement grand,
and tell me that I have the courage deep within,
to help me make it through.

There are those who know me,
and know this to be true,
that not to far below the surface,
is man of different face than the one that he lets through.

To the outside he is king
of the jungle he calls home.
And while there may be those, who others would call boss
He bows to none of these no matter what the cost.

With a firm but gentle reign
he guides his subjects through,
what ever task's before them
without a hint of gloom.

But to the ones that know him best
his heart can not be missed,
for they know he wears it on his sleeve
and often puts it to the test.

And while it might be broken
and emotions from it pour.
It is his heart that make him king
when his courage is unsure.

And once again tomorrow
the king will take his thrown,
but deep inside he knows
his heart is filled with woe.

Yet there is one who in the jungle dwells
that knows the truth of this great king
though she hides it well.

For in this king she has seen
a scarecrow scatter brained
Who finds it odd that pocket flop
on the outside of the seams.

And she has seen the tin man
with a heart no one can mistake.
Who to spend a night with her
would drive across the sate.

And she has seen the cowardly lion
years ago standing in the rain,
who with a broken heart out side her door
was unable to hold in the pain.

And once again the cowardly lion stands before her
with broken heart upon his sleeve
and just like long ago she wonders
was this meant to be?