I thought the chance it was a hundred to one
On one thumb
I could count up the percentage of my coming undone
but now some calculation of impatiently fated rhymes
sourpatch ribbon to the wreck of my valentine
that a fine mess like this should get dished
I woulda made it more unlikely if I had one wish
I take ish with the interstitial liquid bliss
and insist another double on the rocks with twist
this a fist full of good credit
this a circumstance that I must edit
I said it ever thusly with the bust knee
you could trust me
can't front without two feet to step fuss-free
but see, that's just fine, I lost mine
handed then the bandit, thin: my last dime
watched the wheels spin thinking infinitesimal
my ten-decimal chance, the professional
gamblers scoffed
(but the bells went off)
