Tightrope Walker
Caroline Rose Lyrics


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In this room
In this room, you'll find where silence sits
Quiet and remiss
The hiss of the red-hot coals
Listen to the buzz from the telephone poles

On these streets
On these streets, you'll find where reality lives
Lock it up, board it up like it don't exist
Put a bit between its teeth
No, it won't be missed
And let it choke on its bile
Let it choke on its spit

In this bed
In this bed is where we lay our sick
Everybody knows there ain't much shade
Beneath the Devil's Walking Stick
So, if you're looking for rest
You ain't gonna find it
Best pop your happiness
Best shoot up your fix

For the tightrope walker
Oh, the tightrope walker
He twirls his baton hand
Shoots his arrow across the sand and says
"Oh, I'll be back again - oh, I'll be back again"

Oh, In his head
In his head you'll find where the four hands tick
The seconds and the minutes
The desire and the trick
Rubbing together both the sticks till the fire gets lit
The clowns all do a dance
The jokers do a jig
Now I'm looking around the room, wondering
"What's wrong with this shit?"

Oh, and the tightrope walker
Oh, and the tightrope walker




And the tightrope walker
Ha, and the tightrope walker

Overall Meaning

Caroline Rose's song Tightrope Walker is a dark, brooding track that explores the bleak reality of life in modern times. The song is built around a series of vivid images that depict a world that is haunted by the specter of death and despair. The opening lines of the song set the tone for the rest of the track, as Rose sings: "In this room, you'll find where silence sits/Quiet and remiss/The hiss of the red-hot coals/Listen to the buzz from the telephone poles." These lines suggest a sense of isolation and emptiness, as if the singer is trapped in a world that is devoid of hope.


The song then shifts to a more outwardly focused perspective, as Rose sings about "these streets" where "reality lives." Here, she suggests that the world is a place where people try to deny the harsh realities of their existence, "lock[ing] it up, board[ing] it up like it don't exist." The singer is caught in the middle, struggling to find meaning and purpose in a world where everyone else seems content to wallow in their own misery. The chorus of the song introduces the figure of the "tightrope walker," who seems to embody the idea of someone who is able to maintain a precarious balance between hope and despair.


Line by Line Meaning

In this room
This is where silence lies


In this room, you'll find where silence sits
This is where silence lives


Quiet and remiss
All is still and silent


The hiss of the red-hot coals
The only sound is the hiss of hot coals


Listen to the buzz from the telephone poles
The only other sound is the buzz of the telephone poles outside


On these streets
This is where reality exists


On these streets, you'll find where reality lives
This is where the real world is


Lock it up, board it up like it don't exist
Ignore it and pretend it doesn't exist


Put a bit between its teeth
Shut it up and silence it


No, it won't be missed
It won't make a difference if it's silenced


And let it choke on its bile
Let it suffer in its own negativity


Let it choke on its spit
Let it suffer in its own negativity


In this bed
This is where we rest


In this bed is where we lay our sick
This is where we lay our problems


Everybody knows there ain't much shade
There's not much protection or relief


Beneath the Devil's Walking Stick
Beneath the problems and negativity


So, if you're looking for rest
If you want peace


You ain't gonna find it
You won't find it here


Best pop your happiness
Find your own happiness


Best shoot up your fix
Take whatever you need to feel better


For the tightrope walker
For the person who walks on the edge


Oh, the tightrope walker
The person who walks on the edge


He twirls his baton hand
He shows off his skills


Shoots his arrow across the sand and says
He takes his chances and is confident


"Oh, I'll be back again - oh, I'll be back again"
He'll come back and take his chances again


Oh, In his head
In his mind


In his head you'll find where the four hands tick
In his mind, time is ticking away


The seconds and the minutes
Time passing by


The desire and the trick
The temptation and the danger


Rubbing together both the sticks till the fire gets lit
Creating a spark of life


The clowns all do a dance
The people around him act foolishly


The jokers do a jig
The people around him act foolishly


Now I'm looking around the room, wondering
He's observing his surroundings


"What's wrong with this shit?"
"What's wrong with everything?"


Oh, and the tightrope walker
And the person who walks on the edge


Oh, and the tightrope walker
And the person who walks on the edge


And the tightrope walker
And the person who walks on the edge


Ha, and the tightrope walker
And the person who walks on the edge




Contributed by Eli S. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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