She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land
Just like she's walking on a wire in the circus
She knows she's just a little misunderstood
Round here we're carving out our names
Round here we all look the same
We sacrifice like lambs
Round here we're never sent to bed early
And nobody makes us wait
Round here we stay up very, very, very, very late
Sleeping children better run like the wind out of the lightning dream
Mama's little baby better get herself in out of the lightning
She says, "It's only in my head."
I can't see nothin', nothin', round here.
Oh, man, I said, "I'm under the gun..."
And I can't see nothin', nothin'.