The wheels forever spinning
The dice are thrown and scatter
The words are all of winning
But only numbers matter
We bet on our existence
We'll last another round
The lucky go the distance
The losers go to ground
From birth to death we gamble
The lots are daily cast
No warning or preamble
Which one will be your last
There is a great comfort in pure hatred
For envy's not enough, not enough
The soothing joy of malice
Is made of sterner stuff, sterner stuff
The failure of a father
The torment of a son
Is a recipe to justify
The worst that could be done
He'll destroy us unless we call a halt
Should the bastard steal our birthright
It will be our fault
The dice are thrown and scatter
The words are all of winning
But only numbers matter
We bet on our existence
We'll last another round
The lucky go the distance
The losers go to ground
From birth to death we gamble
The lots are daily cast
No warning or preamble
Which one will be your last
There is a great comfort in pure hatred
For envy's not enough, not enough
The soothing joy of malice
Is made of sterner stuff, sterner stuff
The failure of a father
The torment of a son
Is a recipe to justify
The worst that could be done
He'll destroy us unless we call a halt
Should the bastard steal our birthright
It will be our fault
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