Yellow Brick Riot

Описание: 80s arena glam metal. Wizard of Oz meets Hair Metal. Female vocals.

Lyrics:

The world was dark gray in the morning,
And thick storm clouds covered the sun.
Then a wind came laughing through the cornfields,
Took me spinning to a land of fun.

The house hit the ground like a hammer,
And the door swung wide to the day.
I blinked at a world full of neon,
Where the shadows had all run away.
The grass was as blue as a sapphire,
And the trees grew in circles and rings—
While a choir of tiny glass bells
Started humming of wonderful things.

Oh, the colors are screaming in whispers,
And the sky is a mirror of gold.
I’m walking a path made of lightning
To a story that’s never been told.
The yellow is burning my eyelids,
The emerald is sharp as a blade—
I’m caught in the drift of the morning,
With a mind just a little bit frayed.

Met a scarecrow pushing a cart of bottles,
Said he used to lecture the crows.
He was quoting poems to the wheat fields
As the hay slowly leaked out his nose.
Then a Tin man with a gold pocket watch
Said he’d sell me a heart made of steel—
He kept smiling too wide for comfort
As he offered me deal after deal

And the lion had scrubbed at his knuckles
Till the skin was as white as a sheet—
He kept pacing the length of the brickwork
Like a prisoner walking a beat.
He swore he was king of the mountain
While he shook like a leaf in a gale—
He kept checking the sky for winged monkeys
And chewing the fur off his tail.

Now the colors are bleeding together,
And the shadows are starting to grin.
I’m trailing a crowd of the hollow
Through a world that is wearing too thin.
The yellow is humming a warning,
The emerald is heavy and deep—
We’re chasing a ghost through the garden
While the rest of the universe sleeps.

The meadows are heavy with incense,
A velvet and scarlet-dyed snare.
The Scarecrow is shedding his poems,
And sinking through perfumed air.
The Tin Man is shedding his armor,
To drown in a crimson-hued flood.
The Lion is curled in the petals,
Replacing the fear in his blood.
I’m calling their names through the pollen,
But they’ve traded the road for the fog.
They’ve found a sweet way to be hollow,
So now it’s just me and my dog

The road has turned empty and lonely,
The air has grown quiet and dead.
But the breeze is still whispering secrets
To the silence that lives in my head
The highway is cracked and uneven,
With the weeds growing thick in the seams—
But I’m watching the skyline for iron
And the flicker of emerald beams.

Oh the colors have quieted down now,
And the sky is a hard, steady gold.
I’m walking a line that won’t wander
To a story that’s finally told.
The yellow is steady beneath me,
The emerald is calling me in—
There’s a world standing just past the doorway,
And I’m done with the places I’ve been.

To a gate made of green glass and iron,
I have ended my journey alone—
A city of wonders awaits me,
But really, there’s no place like home