[Verso 1]
The guy on my right is new
And he says he feels kind of sad and his hands are cold
And he refuses the dice so I pick 'em up myself
I let 'em roll
[Verso 2]
And the little white spots gleam like stars
The guy on my right gets a look at the stick man
And he begins to sense where it is that we are
And the table's hot
And so am I
And I grab the bones and I let 'em fly
So come 2, come 3, come 4, come 5, come 6, come 7, come 9
It doesn't matter to me now 'cause I got all kinds of time
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