The Ferris wheel stands rusted still
No summer screams to break the chill
October leaves pile round my case
The ticket taker lost his face
I keep my north through wind and haze
The carousel horses freeze in paint
No calliope no saint no saint
Just brass and glass and needle thin
I point the way the stars begin
The magnetic heart beats deep within
I am the silver in the dark
A steady beat a constant mark
While roller coasters sleep in red
I track the path the seasons tread
No rider left to forge ahead
The ticket booth has lost its glass
The midway mirrors cloud and pass
No cotton candy no bright prize
Just geese that cut the graying skies
The funhouse laughs in cold disguise
I am the silver in the dark
A steady beat a constant mark
While roller coasters sleep in red
I track the path the seasons tread
No rider left to forge ahead
A keeper knows the lamp must burn
Through every storm and every turn
No ship arrives no bell is rung
But still the needle sings unsung
The light holds fast though storms are young
The bumper cars are locked in chains
The funhouse mirrors catch the rains
I feel the magnet in the stone
That pulls me toward the unknown
A silent guide for seeds once sown
November wind strips bare the trees
The park sleeps deep in rusted keys
But in my case of brass and bone
I hold a direction not my own
The pole star shines on wood and stone
I am the silver in the dark
A steady beat a constant mark
While roller coasters sleep in red
I track the path the seasons tread
No rider left to forge ahead
True north remembers what we said
The needle trembles holds the line
Autumn ends but north is mine
Steady now through winter time
