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