Fairground Attraction

Children with candyfloss And prizes of goldfish Young men kill tin ducks In sharp shooter poses The laughter of the lovers On the rickety stairs The rumble of the diesels And the sounds of the fair An old gipsy lady, In soft Spanish whispers, Took my hands in hers And told me their secrets: "Your heart is a fire And his love is an ember; You must forget What you'll always remember" Superstition's nonsense, Just a fairground attraction I walk through the neons In search of distraction But the tears in my eyes Knew the truth in my heart She'd only confirmed What I knew At the start