I was born in a crossfire hurricane, somewhere over the rainbow and down the rabbit hole... I know you remember me, I remember you and who you really are... We used to play here, you and me, back when we were small, I know you remember that. And I know you see the trails of gold dust that I leave... I'm just waiting up ahead, Before our worlds ripped apart with that whole idea of 'what is real' and 'what is not real'. Well, now that you're here I'll be honest, sometimes I do slip through the cracks and get you back onside with the spark of an idea, the lick of a guitar riff, a melody or just by leaving something.