The Ride

Well the old man called me in last night

And told me we had lost the fight

And the only way to make it right

Was to close the old fair down

He said I'm really sorry son

I can pay you for the work you've done

But I won't keep you hanging on

Till summer rolls around

For a hundred years my family's worked these grounds

The county show, the village green and the market towns

But now its over

I wonder if its over

All locked down in the winter yards

A travelling life will leave its scars

On the gallopers and the bumper cards

Still shining in the rain

And as we packed the gear away

I promised I would be back one day

For one last ride I would gladly pay

To work these loads again

For I don't believe this way of life is past

And the smell of dust and diesel, the new mown grass

The tilt, the flash, the build up, the pulling down

I miss the moving days and the marking out the ground

If its over

I wonder if its over

So I'll head down to my brothers farm

The winter work will keep me warm

Turn my collar to the northern storms

And shelter f'til the spring

But there's one thing every showman knows

People still need a place to go

For a film, a fair, a dance, a show

Where we can shout and sing

And I'll drag my weary gaffer to his feet

And I'll say the summers here and there's people in the street

This lockdown winter yard's no place to hide

Step right up, walk this way

Everyone's a winner

On that sweet day

When we welcome back the ride