| There is no day or night
|
| in the forest of slot machines,
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| flashing lights and cigarettes,
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| free refills on your drink.
|
| But if the golden deer of luck
|
| never leaps the black jack felt,
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| past old men with their oxygen
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| feeding quarters to the slots
|
| Will you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see it hiding
|
| there in your empty hands?
|
| Will you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see it shining
|
| there in your empty hands?
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| Beefy nachos, chicken wings,
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| all you can eat buffet.
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| A bar shaped like a racing car,
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| neon glow stick in your drink.
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| And if the angels never come,
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| soaring down on golden wings
|
| and anoint your shaking fist
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| with a pair of paper kings
|
| Will you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see it hiding
|
| there in your empty hands?
|
| Will you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see the silver light?
|
| Can you see it shining
|
| there in your empty hands? |