Come ride the roller coaster, friends;
It’s every curve will bring you thrills.
You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll scream and shout,
On its embankments and its hills

Try not to see its disrepair,
Or notice, when you’re off the ride,
The tawdriness that’s in the air:
The scent of urine, dust, and pride –

For so we’re made up in the end:
Whatever coasters we may chance
In vain attempt to stem the pain
Of emptiness
And circumstance