The dim city light would serve as our guide   Six hundred candles in the grid   Like gypsies making off with the moonlight   The night's gone but we've got the memories      It always seems to come right down to this   A heavy hitter swings but seems to miss   You can't help hope that you'll be the next one   And you'll be winning      We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We may break on the way up or on the way down   Going down, going down      So face the breaks and we'll be better for it   Check the tire and get back on the road   Like an executioner on death row      It always seems to come right down to this   A heavy hitter swings but seems to miss   You can't help hope that you'll be the next one   And you'll be winning      We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We may break on the way up or on the way down   Going down, going down      So don't cling to desperation, just use your imagination   Your thoughts are what get you everything   But don't think you've got it coming, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah   Don't cling to desperation, just use your imagination      It always seems to come right down to this   A heavy hitter swings but seems to miss   You can't help hope that you'll be the next one   And you'll be winning      We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We may break on the way up or on the way down   Going down, going down      We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We're tightly wound, going 'round and around   We may break on the way up or on the way down   Going down, going down      We're on the way down, going down, going down   We're on the way down, going down, going down