All things that come round, go round, come round again;
a vicious cycle that never seems to have an end.
Can't just drop it, leave it, forget all about it;
those promises must weigh like bricks on your soul.

The wheels that turn,
they spin round,
come to face yourself again.

The wheels that turn,
don't be so proud,
got to pay back what they've lend.

The wheels spin so fast, just look closely, they don't spin at all;
why do you find about youself only when it's your back against the wall?
Don't you just hate that nasty feeling when you've lost all control;
because you should, but why don't you just look into your soul.

The wheels that turn,
they spin round,
be careful where you tred.

The wheels that turn,
for which you're bound,
so try to use your head.

01/13/2003

Posted on 01/14/2003
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