It was mid September
The air was cooling in the evening
The sound of horsepower rumbling
Fiberglass missiles running the quarter
Sitting in 4th period, listening,
But it's all French to me
Clocks ticking slowly
The ticket waiting in my pocket
The lights go up
The nitro is stored away
Now begins the night
It's what we're all waiting for
It's a passage of time
The midway is calling
Popcorn, cotton candy, meat on a stick
You can smell it in the air
The Fair is back in town
© Jack Charles