Suicide King
Figured I should finish this, even if completely and utterly different than how it started.
So how is my fault when you held all of the cards
And doubled down on the two of hearts?
You’re digging for diamonds
And maybe you’ll find them, one day
When you stop wielding love like a club.
Would you want me to place that bet
When I can’t see more than half the deck?
I’m willing, not able to go before I’m set.
But you say that we must ante up until we bust,
But I’m sorry, so sorry; I cannot stay in this rut;
I’ve had enough, but I wish you good luck
On your next run baby.
Our coffer’s dry, unlike my eyes
But you can’t see you’re bankrupting we.
And this debt we’ve raised I just can’t pay
So thankfully, as they say
I know when to hold them; know when to fold them
So I’m walking away with more than a little change
And you can stay for another run,
But after this hand my game is done.
So how is it my fault . . .
One more thing: how were you betting with chips that you didn’t bring?
One more thing: were you expecting me to be your suicide king?
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E: rock rock,
rock, roc roc
ruk, rock,
MEH
Let me rehash this: I wrote this song for someone else. Not myself. Regardless of any apparent overlaps with my own life may or may not be present for some reading/hearing this song.
Yeah. Vicarious.
See original posting.
Oh I love the current irony.