It started as fun, just us four,
nickels and dimes, we wouldn’t
play for more.

It took just a few hand. It all
went up in smoke when Dave
drew out and started to joke.

The bet limit was off, we were
playing the pot, screaming and
yelling, a miserable lot.

We woke up the neighbors. They
joined us too. Now every Friday
we gather our crew.

We spin off the hours playing
dealer’s choice. We play just as
hard but with a lot less noise.

Burning and turning . . . Oh what
a life! I thought when I grew up I
might be a wife. Instead I stay up
with the boys all night, dealing
the cards until it’s daylight.

If I could start over, what would I
choose? Secretary, waitress, or
teacher, the thought gives me the
blues.

I’ve visited and listened and made
money too. Pushed chips
to everyone, met Henry (he’s new).
I’ll just pick up the deck and
shuffle again, finish my shift, and
leave with a grin.

I’ve got the best seat in the house
and making money’s no sin. I’ll
come back tomorrow. I’ve got a
sure win.

Where do they come from? The endless line.
Waiting in the Queue ’til the end of time.

They reach in their pockets for a chance to play.
Matching wits and skills to survive the foray.

They stack up their chips and then give them
away. What the hell, Brother, they came to play.