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Swinging on icy Chicago streets
I slide into Oz Park
Next to the jungle gym
The writing on the backboard
Makes me sink into my Timberlands
I tap the heels and I swing to a land
Where the snowman’s carrot knows
The Lion has the crown
And a paw dripping with courage
He tilts his top hat
And smokes his corn pipe
Staying warm until the winter goes
Snow and ice melts
And hearts emerge at the Tin Man’s feet
With letters scribbled in chalk
I wrap my arms around
A to M, N to Z
But how will I find my way home
When, when, when
I’m eating all the pieces to the puzzle
Sitting Indian style in the dark
It’s hard to think, hard to speak
These times are hard to eat
I shuffle the muzzle but I’m stuck in park

How will I find my way home
When, when, when
I’m eating all the pieces to the puzzle
Sitting Indian style in the dark
It’s hard to think, hard to speak
These times are hard to eat
I shuffle the muzzle but I’m stuck in park

Am I the only one floating
Through a fisheye lens
Looking up at the fuzzy sky
With Holga eyes
Seeing things no one could believe
Constellations jutting out
I see you in the soft leaves
The trees are pink
And there are images of bees
Buzzing around holographs
In a yellow and black T – ease
Stinging the hands that shake
The Polaroid, polar – lands
Ice and eyes haven’t been able to agree
Cause the ice is cracked
The eyes are closed
And I can’t breathe
When, when, when
I’m eating all the pieces to the puzzle
Sitting Indian style in the dark
It’s hard to think, hard to speak
These times are hard to eat
I shuffle the muzzle but I’m stuck in park

I can’t breathe when, when, when
I’m eating all the pieces to the puzzle
Sitting Indian style in the dark
It’s hard to think, hard to speak
These times are hard to eat
I shuffle the muzzle but I’m stuck in park

I clap my hands and on go the lights
Are the days getting boring?
Sorry, that was impolite
But you were snoring
And I don’t want to impose
I just might tip-toe
Quietly away, way, way, way
While your eyes are closed
And thanks, thanks, thanks
For the birthday wishes
I know I’m getting old
My favorite gift was
The old banjo, I like to build simple melodies
What do you think?
As I shake this cymbal
And strum these strings
Do you see what I see?
Or did I breathe too hard
And fog up the crystal ball
The next years are unclear
Where will karma and fate intersect?
The road looks endless
And I’m still sitting in park
That’s what I feared
When, when, when
I’m eating all the pieces to the puzzle
Sitting Indian style in the dark
It’s hard to think, hard to speak
These times are hard to eat
I shuffle the muzzle but I’m stuck in park

I fear when, when, when
I’m eating all the pieces to the puzzle
Sitting Indian style in the dark
It’s hard to think, hard to speak
These times are hard to eat
I shuffle the muzzle but I’m stuck in park

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