The Most Cursed of Hands / Who Am I - The Dear Hunter

The devil went down to the river

And he came to fall;

to lose it all;

To fool the fool too quick to call

While the gambler’s stacks grew bigger;

He had lost his sights through narrowed eyes;

Too tempted by his wry desires

Damned across fated paths

The time to fold had come to pass

With gambler’s glory delivered

He had thirst for more;

a bigger score;

A trophy no one could ignore

And the devil’s wealth had withered

So with cunning class he offered fast his soul;

The wager had been cast

The gambler called, the river fell

And now the hand from out of hell

The devil smiled, looked in his eyes;

He knew the loss was glorified

The devil said «Revel in your victory;

You’ve earned your damning, pack your things and leave.»

But, the gambler only stood and stuttered

Stammering on words in disbelief

«Now you’ve won a new vocation

Pray to me that you can stand the heat!»

And that, the gambler saw

Meant he had gone and finally set the devil free

Damned across fated paths

The hand he played would be his last

Who am I?

Who am I?

Just a gambler, holding aces in the devil’s eyes?

What is wrong?

What’s the sin?

Where’s the answer?

Where the hell do I fit in?

Or could it be, there’s just a little demon lost in the debris

And I, should idly bide my time until a wager releases me?

Hey!

It can’t remain unknown…