If he only had time to tell of all of the things he planned

With a card up his sleeve, what would he achieve?

It means nothing

To the opium dens and the barroom gin

In the Belmont chair, playing violin

The gambler's face cracks into a grin

As he lays down the king of spades

But the dealer just stares

There's something wrong here, he thinks

The gambler is seized and forced to his knees

And shot dead

He only wanted more time

Away from the darkest door

But his luck it gave in as the dawn light crept in

And he lay on the floor

From the Hundred Year War to the Crimea

With a lance and a musket and a Roman spear

To all of the men who have stood with no fear

In the service of the King

Before you met your fate

Be sure you did not forsake

Your lover may not be around anymore