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!
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