Go to sleep little babynGo to sleep little onennStep out the front door like a ghost into the fognWhere no one notices the contrast of white on whitenAnd in between the moon and you the angels get a better viewnOf the crumbling difference between wrong and rightnI walk in the air, between the rain, through myself and back againnWhere? I don’t knownMaria says she’s dying, through the door I hear her cryin’nWhy? I don’t knownnRound HerenWe always stand up straightnRound HerenSomething radiatesnRound Here we talk just like lionsnBut we sacrifice like lambsnRound HerenShe’s slipping through my handsnnMaria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her handnShe said she’d like to meet a boy who looks like ElvisnAnd she walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the landnJust like she’s walkin’ on a wire in the circusnShe parks her car outside my warehouse, takes her clothes offnSays she’s close to understanding JesusnYeah, she knows she’s more than just a little misunderstoodnShe has trouble acting normal, when she’s nervousnnRound HerenWe’re carving out our namesnRound HerenWe all look the samenRound HerenWe’re cool as kittens, out there the dogs, they crynRound HerenI’m running out of livesnnThere, on the violent tide of sleepnShe’s fast asleep and dreamin’nHere, on the lightenin’ side of menShe comes awakennShe says, “It’s only in my head.”nShe says, “Shhh...I know, it’s only in my head.”nThe girl on the car in the parking lotnSays, “Man, you should try and take a shotncan’t you see my walls are crumbling.”nThen she looks up at the building, says she’s thinkin’ of jumpingnShe says she’s tired of life; she must be tired of somethingnnRound HerenShe’s always on my mindnRound HerenHey man, I’ve got lots of timenRound HerenWe’re never sent to bed early, man, nobody makes us waitnRound HerenWe stay up very, very, very, very latennI said, “I’m under the gun Round Here”nI said, “I’m under the gun, under the gun, Round Here”nShe says, “Why you gotta always...”nStep out the front door like a ghost into the fognWhere no one notices the contrast of white on whitenAnd in between the moon and you the angels get a better viewnOf the crumbling difference between wrong and rightnnI can’t see nothin’, nothin’ Round HerenSaid I can’t see nonNo, no, no Round HerenI can’t see nothin’...nRound Here