Stray Dealer

The smoke is heavy but the exits are clear Three kings of

clubs and a cold ginger beer

He stack the chips with a quiet hand

I read the tell that he didn't plan (hmmm)

I see the mark,

I know the game I take the gold and leave the blame (yeah)

He's hiding aces in a velvet sleeve

Too slow to fool what I can perceive

I play my spade and I collect the pot Leaving the table

while the iron is hot

No sirens wailing,

no desperate run Just walking out before

the morning sun (hahaha)

I see the mark,

I know the game

I take the gold

and leave the blame (oh yeah)

With their own cards (yes)