He was a solitary man
and he wasn't to be alive
for long

He went to the smoking dens
to play games of chance
and he brought a smile

He only wanted more time
away from the darkest door
and to walk towards some light

But look at his grin
as a hand is laid upon him
and he looks upon an ace

He falls to his knees
and he cannot believe
what the dealer laid

The king of spades
supports his grin, and
the Queen does the same

He takes his chips
and grabs the cash
and his ride home

Upon opening the door
he finds familiar solitude
in an empty squalor

The apartment speaks
and says to his soul
that he is nothing

No amount of winnings
could ever alleviate him

No amount of beer
could make him happier

No amount of women
could ever fill that hole

Good night,
you sweet gambler

Good night,
man of chance

Good night,
you lost soul

Good night,
you old romantic

Good night.