When the fat kid gets off
We'll climb on the lead horse
Riding into the mountains
I've been saving a place
On my back for your face
Wrap your arms round my waist and hold tight
On the carousel
Away from the show-offs
Spinning the waltzers
Making the pretty girls scream
We'll stay with the mother
Consoling her daughter
When she drops her scoop of ice-cream
On the carousel
When the young girl fell
We heard her scream
As they pulled her free
From the machinery of the carousel
The carousel
Before the fair opened
The carousel showman
Would polish the barley-twist poles
Oiling the gears
Cleaning the mirrors
Testing the roundabout's controls
Some people say the carousel is too slow
Others say it's a white-knuckle ride
And the galloper's showman
Picking gum off the horses
Says it's a metaphor for life
The carousel
When the young girl fell
We heard her scream
As they pulled her free
From the machinery of the carousel
The carousel
There's a Wurlitzer organ
At the carousel centre
Grinding out an old-fashioned tune
Battling with the slick pop
The R&B and hip-hop
From the dodgems and the rocket to the moon
When the ride is over
I throw a dart into a playing card
And win you an oversized toy
A generic Pink Panther
With a face like an anchor
Sown on by a six-year-old boy
Who'll never ride the waltzers
Or the cup-and-saucers
Or listen to an old-fashioned song
As the ride slows to a stop
Like an old broken clock
And the Wurlitzer organ plays on
On the carousel
When the young girl fell
We heard her scream
As they pulled her free
From the deadly teeth
Of the gears beneath
The cranks and wheels
The iron and steel
Of the machinery