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 I'll wait until my money's gone
Before I take the sleeping pills;
Then when they find me in the dawn,
Remote from earthly ails and ills
They'll say: "She's broke, the foreign bitch!"
And dump me in the common ditch.
So thought I, of all hope bereft, And by my evil fate obsessed; A thousand franks was all I'd left Of that fair fortune I possessed.
I throw it on the table there, And wait, with on my lips a prayer.
I fear my very life's at stake; My note is lying on the Red .
I know I'll lose it, then I'll take My pills and sleep until I'm dead .
Oh God of mercy, understand! In pity guide the croupier's hand.
My heart beats hard, my lips are dry; I feel I cannot bear to look.
I dread to hear the croupier's cry, I'll sit down in this quiet nook.
The lights go dim, my senses reel .
See! Jesus Christ is at the wheel.
* * * * * * * Kind folks arouse me from my trance.
"The Red has come ten times," they say.
"Oh do not risk another chance; Please, Lady, take your gains away, And to the Lord of Luck give thanks - You've won nigh half a million franks.
" Aye, call me just a daft old dame; I knit and sew to make my bread, And nevermore I'll play that game, For I've a glory in my head.
Ah well I know, to stay my fall, 'Twas our dear Lord who spun the ball.

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