| A | D | A | E | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you to just sit | still |
| D | Bm | A | |
| When you | know that it's | time to | run |
| A | D | A | E | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you it's all o | ver |
| D | Bm | A | |
| When you're | sure that it's | just b | egun |
| Chorus: |
| E | D | A | |
| The | iron wheel slowly | spins a | round |
| E | D | A | |
| It | takes you from the cradle 'til you're | six feet under | ground |
| E | D | F#m | |
| You | push and pull against it but you'll | ride it 'til it's | through |
| A | E | D | A | |
| And | those who spin the | wheel well those | fuckers ride it | too |
| A | D | A | E | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you to move a | long |
| D | Bm | A | |
| When you're | sure you should | stand and | fight |
| A | D | A | E | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you that you're a lucky | man |
| D | Bm | A | |
| But the | numbers they | don't add up | right |
| Chorus |
| F#m | D | A | |
| The | good wife rides the wheel as the | years just slip | away |
| F#m | D | A | |
| T.V. | preacher rides the wheel as he | leads the flock ast | ray |
| F#m | D | A | |
| Lady | Justice rides the wheel but her | balance is un | sure |
| F#m | D | E | |
| Cause the | truth it lies in pieces scattered | on the newsroom | floor |
| A | D | A | E | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you to just let | go |
| D | Bm | A | |
| When you're | sure you should | hold on | tight |
| A | D | A | E | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you you're time will never | come |
| D | Bm | A | |
| When you're | sure that your | time's come to | night |
| Chorus |
| A | E | D | A |
| =============== |
| No Capo Version |
| =============== |
| B E B x2 |
| B | E | B | F# | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you to just sit | still |
| E | C#m | B | |
| When you | know that it's | time to | run |
| B | E | B | F# | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you it's all o | ver |
| E | C#m | B | |
| When you're | sure that it's | just be | gun |
| Chorus: |
| F# | E | B | |
| The | iron wheel slowly | spins a | round |
| F# | E | B | |
| It | takes you from the cradle 'til you're | six feet under | ground |
| F# | E | G#m | |
| You | push and pull against it but you'll | ride it 'til it's | through |
| B | F# | E | B | |
| And | those who spin the | wheel well those | fuckers ride it | too |
| B | E | B | F# | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you to move a | long |
| E | C#m | B | |
| when you're | sure you should | stand and | fight |
| B | E | B | F# | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you that you're a lucky | man |
| E | C#m | B | |
| But the | numbers they | don't add up | right |
| Chorus |
| G#m | E | B | |
| The | good wife rides the wheel as the | years just slip | away |
| G#m | E | B | |
| T.V. | preacher rides the wheel as he | leads the flock ast | ray |
| G#m | E | B | |
| Lady | Justice rides the wheel but her | balance is un | sure |
| G#m | E | F# | |
| Cause the | truth it lies in pieces scattered | on the newsroom | floor |
| B | E | B | F# | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you to just let | go |
| E | C#m | B | |
| When you're | sure you should | hold on | tight |
| B | E | B | F# | |
| Sometimes I | tell | you You're time will never | come |
| E | C#m | B | |
| When you're | sure that your | time's come to | night |
| Chorus |
| B | F# | E | B |