The Gambling Song

Cliff Richard

  • 																					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 all

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