Aldo's standing at his table
and he's wond'ring if he's able
to pick the number right this time.
He watches as the wheel stops spinning.
Sees the number that is winning,
as he reaches for his glass of wine.
Once he starts it's hard to stop.
He's keeping up the pace like a tight wound clock.
Be sure you don't step in his way.
He'll keep those numbers rolling.
This may be his last day.
all the bets are taken
Aldo lights a smoke, he's shaking,
from carnation right to the ground.
He knows tonight holds one last chance
'n gives the wheel a final glance.
Slippery fingers drop the money down.
Once he starts it's hard to stop.
He's keeping up the pace like a tight wound clock.
And as he leaves the table:
'No luck today'.
You can rest assured,
he's coming back to try again.
Wind him up, he can't stop, he keeps on going like the clock
that's winding his second hand down.
Wind him up, he can't stop, he keeps on going like the clock
that's winding his second hand down.
Wind him up, he can't stop, he keeps on going like the clock
that's winding his second hand down.
Wind him up, he can't stop, he keeps on going like the clock
that's winding his second hand down.
Wind him up, he can't stop, he keeps on going like the clock
that's winding his second hand down.
Wind him up, he can't stop, he keeps on going like the clock
that's winding his second hand down. |