lyrics by Jim Crichton)



Aldo's standing at his table

And he's wondering 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 keepin' up a 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



As all the bets are taken

Aldo lights a smoke, he's shakin'

>From carnation right to the ground

He knows tonight holds one last chance

'n give the wheel a final glance

Slippery fingers drop the money down

Once he starts it's hard to stop

He's keepin' up a pace like a tight wound clock

And as he leaves the table, "No luck today"

You can rest assured

He's comin' back to try again



Wind him up, he can't stop

He's wound up tight just like the clock

That's winding its second hand down



Wind him up, he can't stop

He keeps on going 'round the clock

He's winding his second hand down