You pace the line of the rusted fence
The autumn air is cold and dense
You watch the ticket booth turn gray
While all the summer crowds fade away
Your copper coat is matted thin
The winter wind bites at your skin
You track a scent through the fallen leaf
A heavy hunger, a quiet grief
You are the ghost of the carnival ride
With nowhere left for a stray to hide
Just a lonely hound by the iron gate
Counting the hours and cursing the fate
The ferris wheel is a frozen bone
You stand in the valley all alone
You hear a whistle from the distant street
The rhythmic drumming of a thousand feet
You are the ghost of the carnival ride
With nowhere left for a stray to hide
Just a lonely hound by the iron gate
Counting the hours and cursing the fate
The gold lights flicker on the hill
The world is turning but you stand still
You bark at the moon in a jagged tone
A king of the ruins on a concrete throne
You remember the smell of the fried corn
Before the season was weathered and worn
The children laughed and they touched your head
Now the colorful banners are stripped and dead
You dig a hole in the frozen mud
The orange sunset is a splash of blood
You wait for a hand that will hold the chain
To lead you home through the October rain
You are the ghost of the carnival ride
With nowhere left for a stray to hide
Just a lonely hound by the iron gate
Counting the hours and cursing the fate
Hold on to the scent of the rain.
Just one more night by the gate.
