A haunting meditation on memory, loss, and the father-son bond told through the lens of a Santa Monica carousel. The shifting tempo mirrors emotional tides—childhood fear transforming into adult longing and acceptance. A cinematic ballad about learning to fly on your own.

Lyrics:

There's a carousel out on a pier
Horses grimace up and down
and round above the waves
It's a cloudy day in blue L.A.
A weekend visit, Saturday
and daddy's come to play

Take my hand

Don't be afraid anymore

You can fly high away

Into the night I'll remember

I will remember

I will remember

I'll remember you

Today is the day I ride alone

A fear of wooden horses just won't do at nine years old

But I'm frightened by the lights, the sounds

Strong hands lift me up and I take hold to a cold brass pole

Take my hand

Don't be afraid anymore

You can fly high away

Into the night I'll remember

I will remember

I will remember

I'll remember you

Round and round and round

Round and round

Round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round

Were you here now, we could laugh

About a boy who fell from a carousel

cried 'til we got home

And we could walk out on that pier

And I could finally hear how a man can fly all on his own

All on his own

And you could take my hand

Don't be afraid anymore

You can fly high away

Into the night I'll remember

I will remember

I will remember

I'll remember you

And the cloudy day in blue

On a cloudy day in blue L.A.