I'm battered and bruised. I got lines I can't use.
My head won't deliver. Well, I'm sold down the river.
But I'm turning again.
Yes, 'n' I'm turning again.
Well, I'm turning again.
And I'm turning again.
Wearing gold-tipped boots, black jacket and tie.

Well, I've been second to none:
this horse was ready to run.
Now I'm has-been and used:
disarmed and de-fused
but I'm turning again.
And I'm turning again.
Yes, 'n' I'm turning again.
I'm turning again.
Wearing gold-tipped boots, black jacket and tie.

I'm egg over-easy
and I'm washing-up squeezy.
Appliance for sale:
fat wind in my sail
and I'm turning again.
Yes, 'n' I'm turning again.
Well, I'm turning again.
Yes, 'n' I'm turning again.
Wearing gold-tipped boots, black jacket and tie.
Well, I'm turning again.

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