Poetry month #4: Destiny’s dice

From September of 2003

Her home’s a broken lawnchair and she’s smoking cigarettes
And if you’ll buy her coffee she’ll enumerate regrets
Nobody ever loved her and nobody could recover
From her losses
It’s all because it’s someone else who tosses

Destiny’s dice
Fate has never led her to her dream
She’s the player that remains unseen
And if you venture to exclaim
That she could stop playing the game
You’ll only find her checking out the scene
Of destiny’s dice

His suit’s always Armani and his shoes they’re always shined
He’d like to stay and chat but then he never has the time
He cheats each week at poker and he’s not the cleanest broker
On the floor
But hey it’s not his fault there’s always more

Destiny’s dice
He’d never dare to leave his hand to fate
That would keep fois gras upon his plate
And if you venture to surmise
That’s not worth all the lies
You’ll only find him playing with the weight
Of destiny’s dice

When’s it my turn?
(this is your turn now)
When’s it my turn?
(this is your turn now)
When’s it my turn

Advertisements

About Jenn

Find me on Twitter @JennGruden
This entry was posted in Songs. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s