The Ballad of a Failure

Word by Dan Kruse and Mike Finneron
Maker chooses suit, as the dealer lays ‘em down.
Queen will hold her court as the king has lost his crown.
A marriage made from diamonds, Jack’s the heir to the royal thrown.
Suicide was his fate, and now the hand is blown.
In from the dark walks a man with a sack full of bills.
here to take the pot for my final dying will.
Coming round the first turn, the muddy river flows in line.
Barmaid pours a glass of their finest sherry wine.
(Chorus)
Raise your glasses to the sky
As I’m about to die.
I’ve got nothing left to my life
But what’s carried on my side.
I’ll make it clear as I’m sitting here
I’ve got one thing in my mind.
When I leave this world, I’m leaving gold
For that child of mine.
Everybody’s always getting all that they deserve
Take another shot to settle anxious nerves
Dealer sets them up, the players make the call
The game plays on through a fog of smoke, while the skill begins to pall.
The plan is set in motion and knowing what I’ll do.
Wait until one final hand is through.
The steel feels cold and heavy as my hands begin to sweat.
Shaking of the ashes of my cigarette.
(Chorus)
I take Aim and pull my ace from sleeve,
but the barmaid calls my bluff.
Puts two burning slugs in me as the muzzle flash lights the dust.
Before my ash could hit the floor I’m laying dead in a pool of blood.
Tell my boy don’t morn for me, and my intentions were always good.

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