Okay, if Ms Merryweather is playing...
A fire burned in the land to the West
Where dragons reside below western shacks
To awaken when the day turns black.
We enter, and climb to begin our tour;
An awesome noise begins to sound
A whistle? A clack? No, a xylophone.
We board, then ride until we see the place
Where Mickey lives and plays.
Although the mad run free, and hell is near
There is no fire here.
A poisoned apple tempts beauty
Feathers let us fly
But the fire calls, so we make our way
To the place rockets fill the sky
We go beyond infinity, and the fire is found
A dazzling display, now held in our palm
The fire recedes, we’re released for the day
Breathe deep as we leave, but not quite relaxed
The next fire will rise, singing our names
Driving us to return, because we're all pinsane.
And yes, there is a xylophone in the Main Street Train Station. It returned from refurbishment just last month.
[video=youtube_share;phRwqNC3AqY]http://youtu.be/phRwqNC3AqY[/video]
And no, no one would take the train to go to LGM. Artistic license.