Ted Poley

Endgame

Ted Poley


If I sing on the dotted line
Would you think: "Now this soul is mine"
When you see that it's not for sale
Will you weep for a love that's failed?

Out of cards, out of line
Out of chips in your hand this time
Out of ways, to amend
Out of hope - now this has to end

No way out - there's no going back
Nothing left but an empty sack
Of a trust that was once in place
But its gone - memory erased

Out of cards, out of line
Out of chips in your hand this time
Lost the taste, for this hell
Time to go - but I wish you well

Gotta end the game - don't lay the blame
On the back of the newly departed
Gone and lost control - its time to go
Had enough of the games that you started