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When will you tire of those crap-game casinos?
You’ve played every dice game, from Vegas to Reno
But you can’t fight this compulsion
Keep believing your luck’s in,
But it’s gone in a tailspin
Cold Monday morning on the edge of the city
You hail down a ride to Atlantic city
But the man wants paid back,
They’ll put a bullet in your back
Make you face look like road map
Bowed not broken
The shark’s not joking
You keep hoping
The system can be beat
A cold afternoon in a town full of losers
A slot-machine heaven, full of red-eyed juicers
But the man wants paid off
Before he starts all the rough stuff
They’ve taken the gloves off
When will you tire of those crap-game casinos?
You’ve played every dice game, from Vegas to Reno
Stake it all on that one throw
Then you run out of the back door,
On the run once more.

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