everybody pays

i got shot off my horse, so what? i'm up again, and playing, in one of these, big saloons on main, you can come up here, take a look, around these sinners' dens, you're only ever going to find, one or two real games, nobody's driving, me underground, not yet anyway, but either on the strip, or on the edge of town, everybody pays, everybody pays to play, yeah, you ought to stay, right where you are, in sawdust land, it's probably the, safest place to be, with your, greasy little pork pies, and your shoestring hands, it makes, no difference to me, all those directions, which we never took, to go our different ways, who went and wrote, the oldest story in the book?, everybody pays, everybody pays to play, curl up inside, a boxcar dream, and disappear, with a couple, low roller friends, you were never one, for trouble, so get out of here, i knew the game, was dangerous back then, but nobody's breezing, through these swinging doors, just ups and walks away, everybody has to leave, some blood here on the floor, everybody pays, everybody pays to play