one more ride before they take it down and drive to a
neighbouring town


sixteen miles away they'll turn off the lights on all the
rides sell off the parts to some nameless guy six years
from today


and you'll find yourself painting your windows so you


and the heart recalls everything in the first language
all of the skin peeled back but there's nothing to see


emotions you could never name are piling into your
thoughts again but you're used to it this way it's got
too late to change