Midnight Show

The circus tent is wearing thin.
Clap your hands and stomp your feet.
Wear the devils on the street.
Every tear becomes a song.
You can't stay too long.
The clown is crying in his room.
He paints his face to hide the gloom.
The fortune teller reads my palm.
She says,
"Your future's still so calm." But I don't want a calm life now.
I want the fire and the vow.