Marc Almond - The Gambler

On a dark night in a lost hour
In a town built from neon and chrome
Where Las Vegas seeks the desert
In an old broken down casino
There the gambler slapped his money down
Dirty dollars one hundred or more
Placed his last bet on a poker game
Crossed his heart for the winning score

But the players at the table
Two men of the phantom creed
Seemed to play with sombre purpose Than a reason and pure greed
And the gambler felt his back freeze
And fear brushed his ageing brow
For he'd seen those men before in his dreams
Here they sat before him now

And the one smoothed back his black hair
With a comb slicked by brylcream and grease
Flipped the cards with a flippancy
Of a wily and slippery ease
With his sharp suit shade of lilac
On a shuffle he made the cards sing