Song Description
Story of a performer traipsing through town breaking hearts. A meditation on fame.
Song Length |
3:04 |
Genre |
Pop - Easy Listening, Folk - Contemporary |
Tempo |
Medium (111 - 130) |
Lead Vocal |
Male Vocal |
Mood |
Still, Poignant |
Subject |
Dysfunctional Relations, Regret |
Similar Artists |
James Taylor, Jim Croce |
Language |
English |
Era |
1970 - 1979 |
| |
Lyrics
Kill the Lights (N. Ball/T. Saputo)
As I sing you these words
there's a spy at my shoulder
and with each rising chorus
I feel her get older,
near the backstage door
as the verses come through.
It's a hard way to learn
that your love just won't do.
The crafty old stage shoots off
bright shiny patterns.
At times it can fool you
to thinking it matters.
She got caught in the swirl
of the tiger's quick thrill.
But the lights caught her dreaming
and moved in for the kill.
Chorus:
From the carnival fence
it looks all fine and dandy.
But the cotton's been stripped
from the heart of the candy.
In fact there's no heart to
be found here at all.
Just the feeling of standing here
thirty feet tall.
Her dream had it pictured:
a seat built for two.
But the tents get rolled up
every morning by noon.
The pillows got lost a
town back or two.
There's no rest for the wicked:
cause a bus-seat must do.
There are times when I yearn
for the still of the past;
when the ground had a hardness
when feelings would last.
So when you go weep
to your friendly old bed,
don't curse an ole gypsy
count your blessings instead.
Chorus:
From the carnival fence
it looks all fine and dandy.
But the cotton's been stripped
from the heart of the candy.
In fact there's no heart to
be found here at all.
Just the feeling of standing here
thirty feet tall.
c Norman Ball, 2003