Tilt and whirl, rise and plummet
Stalled in the sky and loved it
Blacked out, the stars above the lot still shone on you
Wired on raw good luck
We'll never get far enough above
The sordid and sticky low-rent show that moves below
I'm finding my own way around
Our carnivalesque common ground
When are the tents coming down?
Savoring stale confections
And magically cheap consessions
To faith in a framework built to stand a test of days
I can still smell the money
A net beneath everything that falls
Into the gap between love and pornography
I'm finding my own way around
Our carnivalesque common ground
When are the tents coming down?
The medicine show comes around
To peddle a prescription now
To medicate mistrust of crowds
The pitch coming on sickly proud
There's no way around
There's no way around
And there's no way the carnival tents are coming down
Writer(s): Harry Warren, Sidney Keith Russell
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