Closed-Down Circus
rock, Indie rock / indie disco with pop-punk bite; female vocals on the edge of cracking. Punchy picked bass drives the verses, tight lo-fi drums with cassette grit. Choruses explode with crunchy Brit-rock stacks, gang shouts, and splashes of room reverb. Middle section pulls the energy down to bass-and-vocal before slamming back in with doubled guitars and shout-along hooks., pop punk, indie rock, raw, female vocals, noise, disco, lo-fi
Closed-Down Circus
rock, Indie rock / indie disco with pop-punk bite; female vocals on the edge of cracking. Punchy picked bass drives the verses, tight lo-fi drums with cassette grit. Choruses explode with crunchy Brit-rock stacks, gang shouts, and splashes of room reverb. Middle section pulls the energy down to bass-and-vocal before slamming back in with doubled guitars and shout-along hooks., pop punk, indie rock, raw, female vocals, noise, disco, lo-fi
Lyrics
They traded skateboards
For strollers and spreadsheets
Same bar
Same street
But they talk like strangers
They raise their glasses
To mortgages
Milestones
I raise mine
To the kid I still am
[Pre-Chorus]
They say “you’ll get it”
Like it’s some secret door
I jiggle the handle
Fall flat on the floor (hey!)
[Chorus]
I’m a clown in a closed-down circus
Face paint cracking in the rain
All the seats are stacked in corners
Everyone grew up and changed
I’m still juggling cheap red plastic
Dropping balls and saying “wow”
If growing up means feeling this stuck
Guess I’ll stay the last fool in this town
[Verse 2]
They post their babies
Their balanced routines
I post bad selfies
And half-finished dreams
They’ve got calendars
Crowded with plans
I’ve got ink on my fingers
And holes in my vans
[Pre-Chorus]
They call it “progress”
I’ve got ink on my fingers
And holes in my vans
[Pre-Chorus]
They call it “progress”
Like a straight clean line
Mine’s a spiral staircase
That I skate down half the time (yeah)
[Chorus]
I’m a clown in a closed-down circus
Face paint cracking in the rain
All the seats are stacked in corners
Everyone grew up and changed
I’m still juggling cheap red plastic
Dropping balls and saying “wow”
If growing up means feeling this stuck
Guess I’ll stay the last fool in this town (hey!)
Guess I’ll stay the last fool in this town
[Bridge]
Do you remember
Late night parking lot kingdoms
Cardboard crowns
And sugar-rush vows
You said we’d never
Sell our hearts at a desk
Now you’re learning to love
Your lunch break
[Bridge]
So I’ll pitch my tent
In this empty lot
Paint my own sky
On the boarded-up shop
Spin in the dust
Til I fall back down
Laugh at the crack
In my busted crown (woah)
[Chorus]
I’m a clown in a closed-down circus
Face paint cracking in the rain
All the seats are stacked in corners
Everyone grew up and changed
I’m still juggling cheap red plastic
Dropping balls and saying “wow”
If being serious means feeling this hollow
Guess I’m staying the last fool in this town
Yeah I’ll stay the last fool in this town