Follow the yellow brick road


 

Follow the yellow brick road,

and don’t look to the left,

for the cowardly lion awaits you,

his tail between his legs.

Away, in the forest he stands,

under the safety of a tree,

he grasps his shaking body,

he fears what he does not see.

He wants to make this road seem difficult,

more rocky, harder to pass.

Don’t let him get his wish,

ignore whatever he asks.


 

Follow the yellow brick road,

and don’t look to the right,

for the Tin Woodman awaits you,

resembling a knight.

 

Standing near the road, he greets you

proudly, does he stand

his entire body clatters,

his axe is in his hand.

 

Do not let him fool you,

for he wants a journey brief,

do not let him convince you,

though it may seem like a relief.


 

Follow the yellow brick road,

and do not turn your head,

For the scarecrow hovers behind you,

towering and dead.

His clothes are old and ragged,

faded from the sun,

crows rest peacefully on his arms,

proud of what they’ve become.

And though you may not see him

his shadow covers your steps,

he wants you to turn back to him,

your future to forget.


And yet:

You follow the yellow brick road,

follow the yellow brick road.

You keep your eyes on the rad that lies

and you follow the yellow brick road.

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