[Intro] Playing for hours in that smoky old den, He’d lost half his cash, so far from golden, Dealt a hand now laden with promise unkissed, Math’s on his side—but it’s crap if dismissed. [Verse 1] Three hearts up, and his hand heals the straight, Two cards to go, a heart, five, or ten seals his fate. He bets high to invest them, though the turn is pure trash, A three of spades on the river, nine high... his dreams crash. [Pre-Chorus] A bead of sweat slides slow down his cheek, They think they sense weakness, a reason to peek, But he feeds them silence, that old silent shriek, A story he sells them, so sleek and oblique. [Chorus] He counted on a straight or flush or destiny’s bower, But ended in the gutter, a hand with no power, Still his eyes tell a legend, the table can’t deny, Bluffing nine high, he soars on a pure white lie. [Verse 2] If he'd gotten his card, what would he have done? He wouldn't scare them off, for their cash he'd have won. He bet like before, to draw them into betting some more, Two folded, one called, the last he did implore. [Verse 3] The tired old man answered his prayer, Sighed, and tossed one more hundred in there. He feigned a smile just for an instant, Then pushed all his chips in, his very last cent. [Verse 4] He had to act as if he were acting nervous, a double-played scene, Though his heart hammered truth, he feigned contrived unease between. Two folded fast, but the old man stared him down, Heavy scrutiny, then threw his cards with a frown. [Chorus] He counted on a straight or flush or destiny’s bower, But ended in the gutter, a hand with no power, Still his eyes tell a legend, the table can’t deny, He bluffed nine high, soared on a pure white lie. [Bridge] He’s left unchallenged, like a king in the wild, The pot slides to him in silence, beguiled. No grace, no nod, no handshake at the end, Just a smirk that cuts deep, sharper than a friend. He stands up abruptly, chair scraping the floor, Leaves them grasping at ghosts of what came before. [Chorus - Variation] He counted on a straight or flush or destiny’s bower, But ended in the gutter, a hand with no power, Yet he bluffed like the devil in a sharp leather suit, Walked off with their riches, left ‘em all mute. [Outro] In that smoke-choked den where legends convene, Whispers still hover, re-telling the scene, A cunning man who lost and yet still found a throne, A phantom who won, then left them alone. [Instruments riff]