[Intro: trumpet fanfare, tuba bounce, snare] Pink tickets in my apron like a second little heart She rides the wheel at closing when the fair is falling apart [Hook: chanted, brass hits, group shouts] Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) Pink paper in the night (spin it) Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) She rides alone in the light (spin it) One seat empty beside her, one coin left in my hand I take the stubs she drops and I never make a stand [Verse 1] I work the night shift gates with a stamp and a stool Smell of funnel cake grease and a generator drool She shows up Thursdays late in a jacket two sizes big Pays cash, no smile, climbs into the yellow gondola rig Operator is my cousin, he slows it when she boards I pretend to sweep the exit while I count her little wards Every torn pink ticket that she drops against the rail I pocket like a secret in a story I will not tell She never asks my name and I never ask her why The fairground is a planet and we orbit till we die Or till September folds the tents and packs the bolts away And the wheel sits like a question in the empty lot of day [Hook: chanted, brass hits, group shouts] Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) Pink paper in the night (spin it) Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) She rides alone in the light (spin it) One seat empty beside her, one coin left in my hand I take the stubs she drops and I never make a stand [Verse 2] Week five she brought a thermos and a book she did not read Watched the town lights blink like a code I could not read I almost said hey miss, the seat beside you is free Then a kid threw up on the exit and the moment left on me Week seven rain shut half the lot and she came anyway Plastic poncho, same jacket, same quiet Thursday play Cousin winked and said go on, I freeze like a post Pride is a weird currency when you need it the most She dropped three tickets that night in a little wet stack I dried them on the generator till the pink came back [Double-Time Switch: stacked, no commas] Generator coughing and the funnel cake smoking and the wheel is a planet with a motor that never gets sleep Thursday girl climbing in a jacket too heavy with a thermos and a paperback she never even bothers to keep Cousin on the lever and I sweep at the exit like the broom is a passport to a country I am too scared to claim Pink paper falling and I catch every ticket like the fairground is dealing and my apron is winning the game [Hook: chanted, brass hits, group shouts] Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) Pink paper in the night (spin it) Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) She rides alone in the light (spin it) One seat empty beside her, one coin left in my hand I take the stubs she drops and I never make a stand [Chopper Burst: triplet bounce, flow switch] Ticket in the pocket then another then a third then I flatten out the wrinkles like a letter I am too late to send Spin it for the lonely and the leftover dollars and the kid with the thermos at the top when the fair has to end Climb in if you mean it and sit in the quiet and look at the town lights and pretend that the season can bend Blank one on the railing with no stamp and no number just a pencil saying ride it so I finally understand [Breakdown: brass only, half-time] Trumpet if you mean it (hit) Tuba if you stay (hit) Clarinet for the Thursday girl Who rides the wheel away [Verse 3] Last weekend of the season, tents half on the truck She left a blank pink ticket on the railing with no luck No stamp, no number, just ride it in pencil soft and small I showed my cousin, he stopped the wheel, I finally made the call Sat beside her one full turn while the lot went dark below She said I kept the empty seat so someone brave would show Now the ticket lives in my wallet under the license and the cash And every fair I work I leave one blank for the past [Final Hook: chanted, brass hits, group shouts] Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) Pink paper in the night (spin it) Ferris wheel ticket (spin it) She rides alone in the light (spin it) One seat empty beside her, one coin left in my hand I took the ride she offered and I finally made a stand [Outro: trumpet soft, tuba fade] Pink tickets in my apron like a second little heart The wheel is dark for winter, but the blank one still starts
