At the Arcade

Place your coins in the machine And watch the puppets dance Or carousel go 'round and 'round, The ponies all a'prance. The fortune teller makes her guess; The baseball players swat. The circus comes to life For just a quarter in the slot. The old arcade is still alive On San Francisco pier, So naturally, we did indulge As long as we were here. But I got taken by one game - The name: "End of the Trail" - A desert with a skeleton And wagon, built to scale. I wondered what my money In that scene could make occur. My quarter caused the shreds Of wagon cloth to slightly stir. Okay, it was a sucker's bet, But how it made me grin, Well worth the change I paid To one who thought he reeled me in!