big wheel

The people on the river are happy to give. Big wheel keep on turning. Proud Mary keep on burning.

You don't have to worry 'cause you have no money People on the river are happy to give. Big wheel keep on turnin', Proud Mary keep on burnin'.

I have always written perhaps to feel myself less alone In those evenings where heaven takes you by the hand And you stand up there on the big wheel Where the world is just a point to leave behind

but something must have made me stay And the big wheel keep on turning neon burning up above

Ow, Nobody comes back When that has left Nobody releases the big wheel Nobody knows where walked

and takes the nostalgia far away The world turns, big wheel The windmill turns, the trompo turns

Big man, pig man Ha ha, charade you are You well heeled big wheel Ha ha, charade you are

The drinks flow People forget That big wheel spins, the hair thins People forget

People think in Leningrad and Rome, That death is something, that happens to others, That life will continue turning the big wheel Can you hear, in the kitchen the hands on the clock froze

Big man, pig man Ha, ha, charade you are You well heeled big wheel Ha, ha, charade you are

[Chorus] Big wheel keep on turning Proud Mary keep on burning

Four little angels go along with me Four secrets, thousands of stories Dreams rotating in a big wheel From North to South and from East to West

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers as well The heron and the otter are my friends We are all part of this big wheel We belong, everyone, to this great whole

The last night of the fair By the big wheel generator A boy is stabbed

You gonna git it Would you like to be a big wheel Dinin' out for every meal?

I don't want to fuckin' listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote Used to get beat up by the big kids Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still

It was a crown of glory. all that commotion of the worries for love, when the rolling of the big wheel, covered with a veil all that sky of colors

They’re always contriving a scheme to crush down the rights of the poor. So if you’re compelled to go spinning, be sure that your spindles are steel. Let liberty then be your motto, and glory will turn your big wheel.

[HERMES] Where the little wheel squeals and the big wheel groans

I'll never get over you, you'll never get over me But when the big wheel starts to spin You can never know the odds