| Lost, lost, all of them lost
|
| They must have made the river
|
| But how could they have crossed
|
| The painted horses from the carousel ride
|
| All of them gone
|
| Lost, lost, all of them lost
|
| They must have made the river
|
| But how could they have crossed
|
| The painted horses from my carousel ride
|
| They must have carried on
|
| The crazy lady on the bench
|
| Always looking out to sea
|
| Says she saw them get away
|
| She saw them running free
|
| And she knows the reason why
|
| But she swears she’ll never tell
|
| Some things are better left unsaid
|
| About the carousel
|
| And she saw their eyes burned golden
|
| As they galloped wild into the dazzling sun
|
| And doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Does it make you wanna say goodbye
|
| To the world you thought you knew
|
| Doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Or does it make you wanna close your eyes
|
| And pretend it is untrue
|
| Doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Grace, grace, lady of grace
|
| The ticket girl chanted in her Indian lace
|
| Alone in the booth where there used to be lines
|
| But now there’s only faith
|
| Grace, grace, lady of grace
|
| The ticket girl chanted in an Indian lace
|
| Alone in the booth where there used to be lines
|
| Before they ran away
|
| Shuttered doors flung open wide
|
| Leaves were blowing all around
|
| She just stood there mystified
|
| By the hoof marks on the ground
|
| Splintered poles and rusted nails
|
| Jewelled bridles in the tide
|
| Vestiges of old betrayals
|
| From when the brass ring ruled the ride
|
| And she heard their eyes burned golden
|
| As they galopped wild into the dazzling sun
|
| And doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Does it make you wanna say goodbye
|
| To the world you thought you knew
|
| Doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Or does it make you wanna close your eyes
|
| And pretend it is untrue
|
| Doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Doesn’t it make you wonder
|
| Trying to finish this wild song
|
| But who know where it ends
|
| Those pleasure palace fugitives
|
| Were never seen again
|
| But the girl’s still selling tickets
|
| Since they fixed the carousel
|
| There’s a crazy lady on the bench
|
| And those of us who still remember well
|
| Those of us who still remember well
|
| Repeat chorus |