Does not matter for those who
Walked on embers erect,
Is it guillotine cut or
A noose cord 'round the neck.
Maybe they were the heroes
Who got drunk from their wounds,
Maybe having rage tripled
They beat drums feeling doomed.
But the luck and destiny
You won't buy for money,
The grand prize is at stake,
And the prize's cocked snook.
But the luck and destiny
You won't buy for money,
The grand prize is at stake,
And the prize's cocked snook.
In the empty back alley
Someone stole them, it seems,
And the king of the cigarette butts played
Hide and seek with their dreams.
They are not for amusement
Or for avarice gain,
Whether guillotine cut or
A noose cord's utter bane.
But the luck and destiny
You won't buy for money,
The grand prize is at stake,
And the prize's cocked snook.
And the prize's cocked snook.
Here is your medication:
They will quench your grief-pain,
Whether guillotine cut or
A noose cord's utter bane.
But the luck and destiny
You won't buy for money,
The grand prize is at stake,
And the prize's cocked snook.