The wooden tickets fade to white Beside the rusting iron gate An empty fairground in the night Where forgotten spirits wait The carousel begins to spin Without a hand to turn the wheel The painted horses stride within On chipped and yellowed coats of steel A calliope begins to play An eerie tune without a guide The melody drifts far away Across the barren countryside The circus tent hangs loose and low Its striped canvas worn and gray Unseen performers start their show Though every guest has walked away The wooden ferris wheel stands tall Its rusted wagons swing in place A cold wind blows through every stall Across this abandoned space Glass prizes line the dusty stands Unclaimed for fifty years or more While phantom footsteps cross the sands Along the overgrown floor Stand frozen in their endless round While ivy wraps around the reeds Upon this quiet fairground plot [Outro] [End]
