I was in the coach when I heard a hellish crash
I fell out of my bunk an' my left cheekbone was bashed
In a screaming flash, that coach broke right in two
Like a pickaxe pokin' though a cryin' kid's balloon

That coach disintegrated, tossin' me up in the air
Comin' down upon the rubble in my underwear
A coat came sailing over an' it landed on my back
I pulled it up around me as I sat down to the tracks

Today we tried to do a show, the place was mostly filled
But all of us ain't here, so shit ain't workin' well
The lady that used to train them lions over there
She was burnt to death, now her husband, he don't care

Me, I'm just a clown, actin' like a loon
Then breakin' down in tears in my dressin' room
Callin' out the names of Eddie Alan Kern and Sonny Boy DeLoach
Who roasted like some burned up bacon in that coach
Thank God for Emil Schwem--He pulled me from the wreck. I done been followin' him around and sayin' THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

Then there was the funeral the day after the show
Where fifty-six performers, friends, and Circus Joes
Was buried in a graveyard known as Showmen's Rest
Built by Buffalo Bill and circled by no less than
Elephants of solid stone standin' in th' snow
Lookin' at the sky above an' guarding the ground below
The hole was thirty-five feet long and twenty-four feet wide
And as they laid the caskets in it, everybody cried

The Entrance of the Gladiators echoed in the space
While I perplexed and wondered some about God's Golden Grace