Itasca - Carousel Lyrics

Carousel

November morning,
Sky's warm to the touch
I'm running down the stairs
Just trying to keep up
A couple close calls on the freeway,
A couple times I think I'm down

And I drive down past the scaffolds, cranes, and the signs
People here won't just feed the earth, they won't try
The places for me
Not where they're supposed to be anymore

And it's all just a mirror to my own runaround
Cupid's stuck inside now, he's trying to get out
Open the door for me,
This isn't where I want to be, he says

And the weekends are filled with the act
Of dressing and toasting the death of the calf
It's only a matter of time
Before you walk down the aisle

And the sky rains down
White flowers and bassinets
Won't help to keep the primrose path out of my head
No the pleasures of the unknown
Put their weight into my soul