in the fairground ov life,
there's a clown with a knife.
& the merry go round,
lay's burned to the ground,
there are many stalls
were you can try your luck,
win a poison coconut
for shooting down a duck,
in the hall ov mirrors
nothing is as it's seems,
they send you off to sleep
and trap you in your dreams,
even a short ride
on the ghost train,
can muddle up your sences
& make you go insane,
not a stick ov rock
nor candyfloss insight,
its for the burning bodys
that the hungry people fight,
just slot machines
& broken dreams,
no rides for pleasure
or life of liesure,