The Spirit of Scott + Jackie

Wednesday. The Big Wheel turns, that stomach-washing machine feeling, your head is your feet.
The smell of candy floss, diesel and vomit. Three friends forego a previous engagement in search of mechanical entertainment. Scott and Jackie are lovers. The rollercoaster smiles and beckons, a metal snake jointed in evil. The third friend, Jamie, lends Scott two pounds to oil the tracks. Screams of helpless laughter melt into burning cries for help. Poor Scott and Jackie.
The Big Wheel turns, that stomach-washing machine feeling, your head is your feet.

Come with me to a fairground
Where a cold wind pulls flaps of grey canvas
Yesterday’s newspapers spinning silently
The sky is never blue

The following year. The Big Wheel turns, that stomach-washing machine feeling, your head is your feet.
Jamie is drawn here, pushed and pestered by persistent nightmares and visions. There is no rollercoaster now, but there is unfinished business. Scott’s friend pays his money and takes his seat on the Ferris. He is at the top when, with a rusty metallic scream, the wheel stops. All lights are extinguished, then, without the reassuring hum and click of old machinery, Jamie is lowered slowly to the ground. Scott + Jackie are standing there, arms outstretched, clothes and flesh hanging in blacked strips, their faces rippling and bubbling, charred skulls whispering: ‘Welcome back.’
The Big Wheel turns, that stomach-washing machine feeling, your head is your feet.

Come with me to a fairground
Where a cold wind pulls flaps of grey canvas
Yesterday’s toffee papers scuttle wildly
The sky is always grey

The same night. The Big Wheel turns, that stomach-washing machine feeling, your head is your feet.
Jamie’s hand sinks into something soft as, pushing past his friends, he runs through the crowded fairground. A foulness pervades the air, knots of rotted, burning people laughing hoarsely. ‘Ring a prize!’ Rifle range!’ ‘Win your girlfriend a teddy bear!’ ‘Candy floss!’ ‘Lucky numbers!’ are all patronised by smiling corpses. Jamie is breathless at the gates and with his own terrified eyes, he sees Scott + Jackie, waiting for him.
The Big Wheel turns, that stomach-washing machine feeling, your head is your feet.

Come with me to a fairground
Where a cold wind pulls flaps of grey canvas
Yesterday’s newspapers spinning silently
The sky is never blue
Always grey
Never blue

(As a matter of interest, Jamie was found the following day, by one of the fairground dogs. An unmarked corpse, apart from the burnt-in imprint of a two pound coin, in the palm of his left hand. Even the dead repay their debts.)

Come with me to a fairground
Where a cold wind pulls flaps of grey canvas
Yesterday’s toffee papers scuttle wildly
The sky is always grey
Never blue
Always grey