The Clown's Shining Ass

The Clown's Shining Ass

S†N† Noc†urnusSTNT Nocturnus

Текст: 2024, Dan Loveschmidt

От албума "Sleighs of Fire"

(Chorus) Round and round, the march goes on, Clowns and goats, the path is gone. No star above, just a glow from below, The ass shines bright, its long ears show. The donkey shines with a lantern low, Hung from its tail, a foolish glow. The clown rides high, his grin grotesque, A jester’s hat on his bright red jest. They march with gifts for the king they claim, But the path loops back, always the same. (Chorus) Round and round, the march goes on, Clowns and goats, the path is gone. No star above, just a glow from below, The ass shines bright, its long ears show. The goats are draped in ribbons and bells, Their horns adorned like darkened shells. The clown plays tunes on a squeaky toy, A shrill refrain of hollow joy. Their boxes rattle, but inside is ash, A mockery wrapped in a golden stash. The fools still follow, their eyes on the clown, With dreams of the king and a prophet’s crown. The gifts they bear rot as they spin, Their faith a shell, hollow within. The donkey brays, its lantern sways, Marking their endless, empty days. (Chorus) Round and round, the march goes on, Clowns and goats, the path is gone. No star above, just a glow from below, The ass shines bright, its long ears show. The path ahead is a painted lie, A carousel march beneath the sky. The squeaky tune drones ever near, A song of cheer on top of fear. No end awaits, no king is there, Just the glow of the ass in the shiny old fair. (Outro) Round and round, the story fades, The lantern dims, but the jest remains. The clown still laughs, the goats still tread, As the fools all march for a king long dead. (Narrator) And so they marched, Through fields of ash and dreams long gone, The clown’s glow their beacon, A false light on a road that led nowhere. The lantern swung, casting shadows of fools, Each step repeating, each gift unwrapped, Revealing nothing but emptiness. The goats, blind-eyed, trudged in endless circles, Their bells chiming a hollow hymn to the king Who never waited, who never called. The squeak of the clown’s toy lingered, A dirge disguised as a melody, Pulling the faithful onward, Closer to nowhere, Forever. (Outro) Round and round, the story fades, The lantern dims, but the jest remains. The clown still laughs, the goats still tread, As the fools all march for a king long dead.