Walk out of this opera,
‘cause I worry that she’ll sing.
Wasn’t ready when it started,
so what does this really mean?

Slide out of this orchestra
when my chair sits way up there.
It’s a long walk to the spotlight
and some weeks, I just don’t care.

I can say I’ve tried it.
I can say, ‘I know.’
I can try to leave it all
and pay the debts I owe.

How much of this is worth it?
Why don’t they speak with their soul?
Fire talks about growing old and disappearing.

Walk into the carnival
that’s my life in my mind.
Always sure to lock the gates,
so nobody comes inside.

Back on this old carousel
of made-up ups and downs.
Spent, spinning here for so long,
I’m sure I’m scared of the ground.

So I don’t ever try it.
So I don’t ever know.
So I sit back and watch it burn,
and here and there I go.

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