• Looking through all the rides
    With a day's wait for lines
    Workers come and crowds go

    Sitting in the hard, cold seat
    Waiting for the time
    Clinging to the bars so tight
    My hands start to slip

    Slowly clinking our way up
    A sudden silences and then it hits
    The piercing sounds of screams and whooshing air

    Around , Around
    The air blowing past the scents
    Of all the crowds we pass
    And the sweet delights below us