In life we seem to play the odds,
To win big money, to get fat wads.

Sometimes for fortune, sometimes for fame.
I can't understand why we play this game.

Is it for the excitement, is it for the thrill?
Oh please somebody tell me. I hope somebody will.

Favored to win this, favored to win that.
Oh no the odds have changed, Ortiz is at bat.

What are the odds, the odds that odds matter?
1/1 or 1/000,000,000,000,000,000, I think the latter.

When the petals all fall,
You will hear the call.

The howl to save the day.
The game which you must play.

Dangerous rules there are.
The solution seems so far.

So determined you must be,
To be the one to see,

The way to end it all.
The route is not so small.

Perseverance you shall need.
Not love, hate, or greed.

To ensure the well being of all people.
Every church to every steeple.

Don't ever give up the cause.
Don't ever stop or pause.

Because you know that if you do,
This game you will surely lose.

Every time I enter the Pit,
I go in knowing it could be my last time.
My last opportunity to pray to god,
My last chance to apologize to those I couldn't save

Every time I enter the Pit,
I face a new foe in its darkness.
The objective is survival.
It doesn't matter whether I win or lose.

But the ultimate point of the Pit,
Quite dreadful the goal it has.
To make the best survivors,
Using Darwin's natural selection

Every time I enter the Pit,
I may get beaten near to death.
But if I should survive the trial,
I will rise, reborn from the ashes.

The Street that they called Lies,
Was scary as anything could be.
It was dark, lonely, and very deathly,
But it would not scare me.

The Street that they called Strength,
Was an incredible legend of might.
But even he had days where he,
Would lose the will to fight.

The Street that they called Love,
Was a different beast from the rest.
More than all the others combined,
It put me to the test.

It tore me from logical thought,
And clouded all my judgement.
But for all that I tried to pull away,
I was held down like cement.

It made me feel amazing,
And I could not simply refuse,
The joy it gave me every day,
The energy that you could reuse

One day the Street let me go,
And I wandered for a bit.
Not knowing what to do with myself,
I felt like quite the twit.

What happened to my energy?
I lacked the will to move
Like a dancer without his music,
I lost the will to groove.

I think I may be cursed,
From that awful, dreadful street.
The Street that they called Love,
The street where I will retreat