| What was that? |
| Just take a look
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| It seems we’ve got ourselves a congregation…
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| Stop that knocking ! |
| All this work and yet they keep from flocking
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| Every single day in here is all the same to me
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| But things are looking up… since you’ve arrived…
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| Places ! |
| Places ! |
| Performers just try and keep these people in their seats !
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| Up here onlookers — the tight rope rigid, fixed as perfect annulus…
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| I’ll find the time to breathe when I fall
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| We’ll get that cleaned up shortly, we’ve got our cemetery in the back
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| I’ll admit to a rocky start but it must go on !
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| We’re bound to impress you yet
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| We’re bound to the acts we’ve always known without the time
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| Or the drive to leave it behind
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| So sit down in your seats and watch us work until we can’t stand
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| We could’ve stood for more than this…
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| Hey ! |
| Mr.-Show-Me-Something-Splendid — Jocastan Acrobats are ready to perform
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| Did you ever think I would think you were the only one to want to see them fail
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| Swing swing, one mistake and you die a murderer
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| The best you can do is pray and to pass them on
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| Just wait for the human cannonball
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| He can’t enjoy this place when he’s flying straight over our heads but…
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| We’re bound to impress you yet
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| We’re bound to the acts we’ve always known without the time
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| Or the drive to leave it behind
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| So sit down in your seats and watch us work until we can’t stand
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| We could’ve stood for more than this…
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| If all the jugglers could juggle the jugglers do you think they’d ever hit the
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| ground?
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| If one of the jugglers lost faith in the others do you think we’d even hear the
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| sound?
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| If all the jugglers could juggle the jugglers do you think they’d ever hit the
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| ground?
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| If one of the jugglers lost faith in the others do you think they’d even
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| recognize that…
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| We’re bound to impress you yet
|
| We’re bound to the acts we’ve always known without the time
|
| Or the drive to leave it behind
|
| So sit down in your seats and watch us work until we can’t stand
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| We could’ve stood for more than this…
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| (introducing the human cannonball)
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| Leave the flying to the seeds; |
| we all give up our time eventually
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| Breathe in each and every word from painted lips
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| We know you’ll keep these exaggerated features in your head
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| We know you’ll |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Performers Tent (Mortus The Bum), artist - The Venetia Fair. Album song The Circus, in the genre Прогрессивный рок