Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Whoever Said Gambling's For Suckers, artist - Cameron Avery. Album song Ripe Dreams, Pipe Dreams, in the genre Инди
Date of issue: 09.03.2017
Record label: AnTi
Song language: English
Whoever Said Gambling's For Suckers |
It was a Sunday, a normal day at the track |
I’d hedged my bets and cashed my checks for the week |
I mean, the track was wet so the dogs were running slow |
Plus the cold air made the starting gates jam |
But I did alright |
Other than that, a normal day at the track |
Everyone had left except for one of the trainers |
Who’d lost nearly everything on his last dog |
So he was drinking like a priest at the rapture |
Stacy was working |
She had just broken up with her boyfriend |
Who’d skipped town with her car and her life’s savings that morning |
So she was on edge |
It took nothing more than for me to ask her how she was doing |
And she flipped |
That was it |
She reached under the bar back and pulled out a big, shiny .44 |
And pointed it straight at my head |
The startled and broken dog trainer, to my left |
Welled up and then threw up all over my shoes |
And I just got those cleaned, as well |
Stacy told me to give her my car, my day’s take |
Or she’d spray the back wall with my cerebellum |
At first I was rocked, shocked, and taken aback |
By her half-cocked, locked, and stocked .44 |
But then the strangest thing happened |
That look in her eye; |
no fear, no compromise |
Sent me on a spin, I could’ve taken her right there and then |
She had me sweating, that was for sure |
But not from fear, from lust |
I trusted her volition was in no condition to drive |
So I said |
Hold me hostage, put the gun against my head |
Hold me hostage, honey, you heard what I said |
At this point, Dale, the dog trainer, had passed out |
From either too much sorrow-drowning and whiskey-pounding |
Or just fainted out of fear, which I didn’t understand |
The man had nothing left |
A perfect night to feel the hand of death |
And what a way to go, all it would’ve taken was some barroom heroics |
And Stacy would’ve wasted him |
So now it was me and her, and I couldn’t break her gaze |
Me and her dreaming of all the ways we could spend our days |
Still, confusion stood heavy on her complexion |
So I said again |
Hold me hostage, put the gun against my head |
Hold me hostage, honey, you heard what I said |
Still looking impatient and confused |
I decided I would explain my arousal |
And state my proposal |
That she and I, with love in eyes, and trust |
Be thrust into blood-lust together |
Forever and ever, until vengeance do we part |
And I said again |
Hold me hostage, put the gun against my head |
Hold me hostage, honey, you heard what I said |
Then I said |
Take me with you, take me whilst you can |
Take me with you, honey, I’ll hunt down your man |
After still questioning the persistence in my assistance |
I lied and said that, as a bookie, I was used to this bounty-hunting kind of |
thing |
And that we could find him, kill him |
Retrieve her life’s savings and the beat-up old Pontiac |
And be back before the track open again on Wednesday |
I said as payment, for my act of chivalry/hired mercenary |
Would be that she fed me, bathed me, and made love to me |
With the same bold conviction as she felt for her burgeoning retribution |
As I looked deeper into her eyes I thought, was she really gonna take me? |
To have and to hold… hostage |
In sickness and in health |
And in bullet-riddled wealth |
So I said |
Take me with you, take me whilst you can |
Take me with you, honey, I’ll hunt down your man |
And then it happened |
She slowly walked along the bar back |
Knocking each bottle of cheap swill off the shelf with each swing of her hips |
As she rounded the service alley |
She unclasped her bra, threw it on the bar |
Straddled me on my stool, said, «You crazy fool,» |
And kissed me |
Long and slow |
Gun around my neck and neckline full of sweat |
She took me right there and then on the floor |
Next to poor old Pale Dale |
(She said) |
I’ll take you with me, take you while I can |
I''ll take you with me, honey, you can be my man |
So we took off, drove around for a couple of weeks |
Making whoopee the whole way long |
Found her man, empty pockets |
We left him lying in a pool of his own urine |
Couldn’t kill him |
No fun shooting a coward, anyhow |
So we took the Pontiac and opened a bar back in Savannah |
She pours the shots, and I run the slots |
Been married seven years |
Living off quarters and beers |
She still brings the gun to bed every now and then |
Gets her kissin' through my submission |
So there it is; |
The last and best bet I ever made |
Whoever said gambling’s for suckers? |