(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