Ain´t it funny how they´re all Cleopatra
When you gaze into their past
When you find out about their birth signs
You realize there was no need to have asked

All the history of a soul in torment
Ingrained in a hand or a face
Ain´t it funny how they all fire the pistol
At the wrong end of the race

I am going round and round
I am going round and round
I am going round and round
I am going round
Going round and round

There´s a man going through your dust bin
Only this time he´s looking for food
There´s a tear in his eye, you don´t know him
Oh but you know what he´s going through

Ain´t it funny that you can´t seem to help him
Feelin´ sick as he staggers away
Is it weird that you hate a stranger
Can a detail correct your dismay

I am going round and round
I am going round and round
I am going round and round
I am going round
Going round and round