| He deals the cards as a meditation
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| And those he plays never suspect
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| He doesn’t play for the money he wins
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| He doesn’t play for respect
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| He deals the cards to find the answer
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| The sacred geometry of chance
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| The hidden law of a probable outcome
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| The numbers lead a dance
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| I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
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| I know that the clubs are weapons of war
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| I know that diamonds mean money for this art
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| But that’s not the shape of my heart
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| He may play the jack of diamonds
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| He may lay the queen of spades
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| He may conceal a king in his hand
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| While a memory of it fades
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| I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
|
| I know that the clubs are weapons of war
|
| I know that diamonds mean money for this art
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| But that’s not the shape of my heart
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| That’s not the shape, shape of my heart
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| And if I told you that I loved you
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| You’d maybe think there’s something wrong
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| I’m not a man of too many faces
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| The mask I wear is one
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| But those who speak know nothing
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| And find out to their cost
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| Like those who curse their luck in too many places
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| And those who fear are lost
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| I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
|
| I know that the clubs are weapons of war
|
| I know that diamonds mean money for this art
|
| But that’s not the shape of my heart
|
| That’s not the shape of my heart
|
| That’s not the shape, the shape of my heart |