The great dark raps the sun so hard Cold wind stiffens my joints Cylinders sit silent, oil cries to depletion And it's me, and only me who can stop the weeping Gambled footwork favours my side And takes me straight to where the barflies hover My body aches, and my mind, it flickers Like a TV with an antenna problem The kitchen's shut, only warm cans And the room never touched by a sanitary hand But in the corner lays a weathered old card With a word I've longed for more than anything this far But my self pity bewildered me A lucky strike Fortune got a hold of me I threw my fate into the dark And it landed in a stranger's hands The cast of a shadow Is dependent on where I stand