I wrote this little poem in the coffee shop we stopped at the border coming home.
We’re heading home from Vegas,
Not a penny to my name.
Once again it’s plain to see,
Video poker’s not my game.
Not a penny to my name.
Once again it’s plain to see,
Video poker’s not my game.
Karen played the
pennies,
And won a bundle all her own.
Once we’re home I have to admit,
I’ll ask her for a loan.
And won a bundle all her own.
Once we’re home I have to admit,
I’ll ask her for a loan.
So we’ll cross
the sandy desert,
Mile after mile we’ll fly.
All that money I threw away,
Just makes me want to cry.
Mile after mile we’ll fly.
All that money I threw away,
Just makes me want to cry.
We had a good
time I cannot lie,
The money’s incidental.
Better spent on fun and games,
I think I’ve gone quite mental.
The money’s incidental.
Better spent on fun and games,
I think I’ve gone quite mental.
--Ken Ferguson--
Artista di Parole
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