Bassline Swagger
Rain on the gravel,
a coat with a tear
He counts up the chips
with a cold quiet stare
They think that he's blind
to the wire on the floor
But he's palm-shuffling aces
and eyeing the door
(hah) Leave the table while the lights are low
Take the gold and let the high-rollers go
Three kings in the alley,
a setup indeed
But they underestimated
his swagger and speed
He carries the trump card,
the laughter is dry
Never look back
when you're bidding goodbye
Leave the table while the lights are low (yeah)
Take the gold and let the high-rollers go
No regrets tonight (hmph) Just the road ahead