Song lyrics: "The Carnival"
Aug. 18th, 2008 09:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redneckgaijin(a song that's been rattling around in my head for months, about the life of dealers at fan-based conventions)
THURSDAY EVENING, AND THE TENTS GO UP.
You drive eight hundred miles with everything you could find to sell
Stop just long enough to check into a cheap fleabag motel
Then over to the con hotel and the exhibition hall
Just another weekend at the carnival
Set up your booth all Thursday night and come back again at the break of light
Ready to sell with two minutes until
The Friday shoppers trickle in, and with them comes the awful din
Of the fans who pay your food and rent and bills
"Do you have that shirt in my size?"
"Will you be here all three days?"
"Do you have that show, you know, by the creators of Maze?"
"Do you accept plastic, I think the Visa's clear?"
"Oh man, thank God I found you here!"
SATURDAY, AND THE RUSH IS ON.
On Saturday the tidal wave crashes through the dealer's door
A mob of fans, costumed hams, and shoplifters galore
A crowd forms up along your table looking to buy
Whatever thing of yours has caught their eye
The lulls in traffic are too brief, and closing comes as sweet relief
Now's your chance to have a little fun
But you eat your dinner all alone, wander the con on your own
In a crowded hotel you're a crowd of one
"There's no games I want to play tonight,
There's no films I want to see,
I can't believe these kids are so much younger than me!
How the hell will I retire?
You call this a career?
Good God Almighty, what am I doing here?"
SUNDAY, AND THE CONVENTION IS DYING.
After they check out of their rooms, before they say goodbye
The Sunday shoppers trickle in to make their final buys
The plastic boxes come back out, the displays are coming down
The carnival is moving on to another town
You've made enough to pay the bills and keep gas in the truck until
Your next convention somewhere down the road
And the fans keep talking with their friends, pretending conventions never end,
Making one last purchase to lighten up your load
"Hey wait, are you still open?"
"Do you still have that thing I see?"
"I'm here to pay for the stuff you held behind the table for me!"
"Do you have card so I can order
the stuff you don't have here?"
"Tell me, will you be back next year?"
And in a week or month you load the truck and make another haul
To another town, another con, another carnival
--- "The Carnival," lyrics copyright 2008 Kris Overstreet
THURSDAY EVENING, AND THE TENTS GO UP.
You drive eight hundred miles with everything you could find to sell
Stop just long enough to check into a cheap fleabag motel
Then over to the con hotel and the exhibition hall
Just another weekend at the carnival
Set up your booth all Thursday night and come back again at the break of light
Ready to sell with two minutes until
The Friday shoppers trickle in, and with them comes the awful din
Of the fans who pay your food and rent and bills
"Do you have that shirt in my size?"
"Will you be here all three days?"
"Do you have that show, you know, by the creators of Maze?"
"Do you accept plastic, I think the Visa's clear?"
"Oh man, thank God I found you here!"
SATURDAY, AND THE RUSH IS ON.
On Saturday the tidal wave crashes through the dealer's door
A mob of fans, costumed hams, and shoplifters galore
A crowd forms up along your table looking to buy
Whatever thing of yours has caught their eye
The lulls in traffic are too brief, and closing comes as sweet relief
Now's your chance to have a little fun
But you eat your dinner all alone, wander the con on your own
In a crowded hotel you're a crowd of one
"There's no games I want to play tonight,
There's no films I want to see,
I can't believe these kids are so much younger than me!
How the hell will I retire?
You call this a career?
Good God Almighty, what am I doing here?"
SUNDAY, AND THE CONVENTION IS DYING.
After they check out of their rooms, before they say goodbye
The Sunday shoppers trickle in to make their final buys
The plastic boxes come back out, the displays are coming down
The carnival is moving on to another town
You've made enough to pay the bills and keep gas in the truck until
Your next convention somewhere down the road
And the fans keep talking with their friends, pretending conventions never end,
Making one last purchase to lighten up your load
"Hey wait, are you still open?"
"Do you still have that thing I see?"
"I'm here to pay for the stuff you held behind the table for me!"
"Do you have card so I can order
the stuff you don't have here?"
"Tell me, will you be back next year?"
And in a week or month you load the truck and make another haul
To another town, another con, another carnival
--- "The Carnival," lyrics copyright 2008 Kris Overstreet
