When I was young,
I dreamed of today;
All the friends I would have
And the things we would say.

It was all quite dramatic,
Since it came from a child.
But I thought then that
I could make today worth while.

But now, this "today"
Dreamed up in the past,
Has yet to show up.
It better come fast.

I doubt it will come,
It's rusted so bad.
It was left in the rain
With other dreams that I had.

That "today" can't move,
Just like the Tin Man;
With no Dorothy to come
And no oil on hand.

I had other dreams,
Along with "today",
But I've lost hope for them.
They've rusted away.

I don't think of them often,
These failed dreams I had.
But whenever it rains,
They seem to come back.

Whenever they come,
I can keep them at bay.
With the help of my friend,
The rain goes away.

So now, as I write
I go for my friend
And I hope that my troubles
Will come to an end.

Now my friend's in my hand,
The only one I can trust.
But again I'm betrayed,
The blade's covered in rust.