He puts his hat on the table and picks up his guitar.

The music of the night has slowed to a crawl.

In a concrete room, he sings through the bars,

Far from the lights, the stage and the stars.

Pack up the circus. Hang up the reigns.

Turn out the lights. Its time for a change.

Everyone knows the moon only glows and the real show starts when the lions are back in their cage.

Are we all in motion at the edge of the wheel

or are we holding on for life and spinning our heels?

And if we dive from a dizzying height,

Would it be less lonely in the glow of the night?

There's a place where the misfits fit right in

From far and wide they come when the sun sets and the show begins