You stand where the asphalt is cold.
The story of autumn is told.
The coasters are frozen in rust.
The ticket booths covered in dust.
The grease on the grill starts to smoke.
The regulars tell a bad joke.
The coffee is bitter and hot.
You watch from your lonely old spot.
Blinking red and blinking white.
Keeping watch throughout the night.
Buzzing low in silver air.
Watching everything from there.
The cotton candy machines sleep.
The secrets of summer are deep.
The wind kicks a soda can round.
It makes a sharp metallic sound.
The grease on the grill starts to smoke.
The regulars tell a bad joke.
The coffee is bitter and hot.
You watch from your lonely old spot.
Blinking red and blinking white.
Keeping watch throughout the night.
Buzzing low in silver air.
Watching everything from there.
You see the dead leaves on the track.
The summer is never coming back.
The ferris wheel holds its own breath.
A wintery kind of a death.
Blinking red and blinking white.
Keeping watch throughout the night.
Buzzing low in silver air.
Watching everything from there.
I flip the last burger of ten.
Then wait for the sunrise again.
You flicker a rhythmic blue beat.
Above the deserted main street.
Blinking red and blinking white.
Keeping watch throughout the night.
Buzzing low in silver air.
Watching everything from there.
The diner is closing its door.
I mop up the salt on the floor.
The morning is gray and it's chill.
But you are remaining quite still.
Blinking red and blinking white.
Keeping watch throughout the night.
Buzzing low in silver air.
Watching everything from there.
Just a hum in the cold.
Just a story untold.
Blinking white.
Blinking white.
