by Doug Rainbow
The parting of a poker player and his best friend
|I won that dog, Fold, in a poker game. |
One eye was blind and one leg was lame.
Fold was too tired to run but too old to fight.
If you tried to pet him, then Fold might bite.
I took old Fold to a game with the boys
He slept right through the fun and the noise.
Then in came a poker player named Slim
And I could not get the best of him.
If I held sevens, Slim'd have eights.
If Slim drew flushes, my hand would be straights.
Slim's stack of chips kept a'gettin' taller.
My little pile got smaller and smaller.
Soon Slim won my boots and my hat.
When he won my belt I was down to that
Little old hound dog, just takin' a nap.
(He never would come sit on my lap.)
Last hand o' the night and I made my bet.
When we showed our hands I lost my pet.
As he walked out with Slim I was takin' a drink
I just smiled when I saw that hound dog wink.