A wrinkled hand
A fading light
The crystal ball
That burned so bright

A gypsy’s touch
A future sight
The crystal ball
That now ignites

Soft-spoken words
Come with a tear
The gypsy tells
Your end is near

Another test
Your palm is read
Cracked fingers trace,
You’re almost dead

The gypsy has
Just one more trick
The tarot cards
She draws them quick

The first of five
The devil flips
With number two
There’s burning ships

The third is drawn
A reaper shows
Out of the card
He unfolds

The seer tells you
Of her sorrow
“I’m sad to say
You wont see tomorrow”