The Gambler
I’ll tell you a story about a man I knew, he was a gambler, through and through, he played for silver, he played for gold, he’d take you money, he’d take your soul.
Switch blade in his pocket, razor in his shoe, cut you down in a minute, he’d shot you through, I accused him of cheating, he turned around, reached for his pistol, I shot him down.
You can run, but you can’t hide, from those feelings, deep inside, thirteen’s my number, bad lucks my name, black is the color, devil knows my name.
Always a gambler, in every town, and there’s no were to go, when your down on your luck.