Take me to a wizard who's precise with the scissors, cut me open and tell me if Is it tin or is it tissue, is it why that I miss you, is a wicked witch cursing me? Always in the back, always bustling Thoughts pelt me like hail. Climb up to the top of all those worries and look at life, oh well, that's the way that it is. Take me to a wizard who has infinite wisdom, fortitude and bravery. Is there a yellow belly in me, just a coward and skinny, and afraid of dyin'? Always in the back, always bustling Thoughts pelt me like hail. Climb up to the top of all those worries and look at life, oh well, that's the way that it is. Take to a wizard who has delicate fingers, look deep down inside my brain. Is it a tangled mess of ropes, my dreams, thoughts, hopes, sparks firing from synapses? Always in the back, always bustling Thoughts pelt me like hail. Climb up to the top of all those worries and look at life, oh well, that's the way that it is.