The game began so long ago we’d forgotten we were playing
The dealers dealt the cards to us
We played our hands as given
A game would end, a new begin; the deck was never ending
We’d discard, we’d draw, we’d keep our score
And promise to remember
The years would pass and players leave; new ones would take their place
We’d win, we’d lose, we’d fold and raise,
And you and I our separate ways.
The stakes are high, the wine is chill, the game this time’s in Beckley
The dealers watch you play your hands
As cards are played and plans are made
Win or lose, we never knew; but the dealers watched us play.
Though now we play at different tables
From far away they watch us still
And as the game winds down in Beckley, and the dealers game as well
As Bob peers over his glasses at Dill; and Dill who wears a grin
He utters that dreaded word I’ve heard,
And signifies the game is done,
Another to begin.
Gin
Walking Without Rhythm 