The wheels forever spinning The dice are thrown and scatter The words are all of winning But only numbers matter
We bet on our existence We'll last another round The lucky go the distance The losers go to ground
From birth to death we gamble The lots are daily cast No warning or preamble Which one will be your last
There is a great comfort in pure hatred For envy's not enough, not enough The soothing joy of malice Is made of sterner stuff, sterner stuff The failure of a father The torment of a son Is a recipe to justify The worst that could be done
He'll destroy us unless we call a halt Should the bastard steal our birthright It will be our fault
The race is won by cunning A terrifying dance Too complex in the running To leave it all to chance
But chance is all we're given So chances we must take The gambler's stake is driven Through hearts that dare not break
But all save one are broken As fatal points are scored And one surviving token Holds sway across the board
There's a moment when the game's balance Tilts the other way, the other way When the odds begin to favour Outsiders in the play, in the play The failure of incumbents The sleazy tricks they use Mean that those who think they call The tune can only lose
Deal the cards, it won't matter how they fall Because nothing is a gamble when you want it allTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
