One half of my two oldest friends Took a job til the summers end
A wonder show and a pop up tent Kicking dust in every small town

An out of work Indian
A few hundred a week ain't that bad my friend Don't think he ever picked up a wrench
In his whole damn life

Buzzing lights and the mosquitoes bit Thought for sure that he'd quit
Just as soon as the night time hit Well he proved me wrong

Cause by the end of it
The Tilt-a-whirled and the Zipper zipped And he had both hands in it
From sun up until they tore down

Most these folks ain't like most these folks Keep in mind that some folks lie
And if you ever need a place to go Just look for the neon signs

Popcorn, soda and caramel apples
Three weeks in, oh, he couldn't stand em Sleeping on a paper thin mattress
Praying for early rain

Fist fight almost went in the fire Garbage tattoo of barbed wire
Covers the arms of this kid named Kyle Who swears Joe stole his weed

Fair ground littered with happy families Painted faces and cotton candy
The kind of life that would be just dandy Then who'd run the rides?
Guess that's just carny life

Most these folks ain't like most these folks Keep in mind that some folks lie
And if you ever need a place to go Just look for the neon signs

Most these folks ain't like most these folks Keep in mind that some folks lie
And if you ever need a place to go Just look for the neon signs
Look for the neon signs