When the chips are down the road always bends
Where are they now my fairweather friends?

Estranged and torn, forlorn in the wind

Hopeless and alone all I remember whom I've helped win

Now it's my turn but it seems they all ran out once again

Religion has lied my faith has grown dim
The country I was born gave in to the devil the playing field is not level

I can't afford to live, the prices too high
Where do I go to lay down and die?

D. Clare