(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