Around and round and round it whirls,
Precariously swaying,
And as we clamber on and off
The music keeps on playing.

Our chariot bobs up and down,
Continuously spinning;
This magic circle journey knows
No end and no beginning.

Some day our carousel will cease
Its circumnavigating;
But now we ride and blithely wave,
Our pace accelerating.

Perhaps, we muse, the rules may change
To let us go on riding
And jettison anxieties
We fearfully keep hiding;

Against such time we hold on tight
And whirl and whirl yet faster
Upon this cosmic carousel
Run by the Head Ringmaster.

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