Roulette

 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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