Donât you know, thereâs no place I can goItâs like Iâm stuck on a merry-go-roundCanât you see what itâs doing to me?Itâs like the whole thing is getting me downAround and around it goesHow to make it stop, nobody knowsGrains of sand, cigarette in my handTime is running, but Iâve run out of timeNo way out, better deal with the doubtful revolutionBlowing my mindRising sun, my TV is turned onLooks like Iâm in for another spinTurned out right, better turn out the lightsBut all this turning is doing me in