Track Insight / Lyrics
The gates are locked, the paint is chipped,
Another autumn night has slipped.
Steel and rust beneath the moon,
A silent park arriving soon.
My flashlight beam, a lonely grace,
Across the Tilt-A-Whirl's empty space.
The wind it sighs through broken glass,
Memories flicker, fading fast.
Static carousel, turning slow,
Ghosts of laughter, long ago.
Each painted pony, cold and still,
A hollow echo on the hill.
The Ferris wheel, a skeletal frame,
Whispers a forgotten, joyful name.
Cobwebs cling to cotton candy stalls,
Shadows lengthen, answering calls.
Static carousel, turning slow,
Ghosts of laughter, long ago.
Each painted pony, cold and still,
A hollow echo on the hill.
I walk the paths, a weary stride,
Where summer dreams once did reside.
The bumper cars, a twisted heap,
Secrets the silent grounds will keep.
Static carousel, turning slow,
Ghosts of laughter, long ago.
Each painted pony, cold and still,
A hollow echo on the hill.
A single bulb flickers and dies,
Reflecting in my tired eyes.
The scent of popcorn, faint and sweet,
A phantom touch on concrete feet.
This hollow kingdom, mine to roam,
Far from any welcome home.
The funhouse mirrors, cracked and gray,
Show faces lost along the way.
A chilling breeze begins to blow,
Across the grounds, soft and low.
Static carousel, turning slow,
Ghosts of laughter, long ago.
Each painted pony, cold and still,
A hollow echo on the hill.
The music's gone, the lights are dim,
Just whispers now, carried on the whim.
The park sleeps on, beneath the stars,
Behind these rusted iron bars.
Another night begins to fade,
A silent promise, softly made.
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