Fairground Attraction

Excessive light and noise isn't particularly what my hung over brain wants to be fed today, but it seems a shame not to soak up a bit more of the festive cheer while it's around.

Here's a seasonal coming of age tale courtesy of Coope, Boyes & Simpson.


Beehives and bobbed hair, framed by steel windows
Innocent, wide-eyed; paused for a while
Portraits of passion still to be painted
The old ones remember and knowingly smile

Through late autumn gold, a gaudy procession
High in the red brick, the mill girls look down
Where peacock-brown wagons belch storm clouds of diesel
A rainbow of funfair snakes into town

Stern father warns; her mother pleads caution
Tight-lipped she listens, and hears not a word
Common sense fades as a wall of death siren
Calls to the stranger's outlandish world

Across the grey market, excitement converging
Dark figures hurrying down through the night
Spinning high on the waltzer, the young man is watching
The shy moth fluttering into the light

Three steps to heaven, and on with the ride
Waltzing and spinning to Johnny B. Goode
The look that he gave her asked more than the fare
She prayed that he wouldn't, but dreamed that he would

Candy floss, popcorn, hot peas and mint sauce
Diesel and deafening rock & roll rhymes
Coconut, scoldfish, cheap toys and tattoos
A walk to the pub to try well-rehearsed lines

Pink and grey Velox, all white walls and chrome
Warriors look down on where passion finds place
In the steam of the windows, a tear of remorse
For a too-brief encounter, a chance of disgrace

The rain from above washes dreams from the market
As dodgems and waltzers pulled down one more time
Alone, the girl stares at her winter of doubt
No flashing lights flatter the truth and the grime

The rain from above washes dreams from the market
As dodgems and waltzers pulled down one more time
Alone, the girl stares at her winter of doubt
No flashing lights flatter the truth and the grime