Vegas or Valhalla – Part 2

You’ve dined in halls of heroes,

and you’ve kissed the lips of sin.

You’ve played the gods,

against the odds:

the house will always win.


You’ve pawned your pride for pocket change

too many times to mention.

You’ve collected debts,

and stored regrets,

if that was your intention.


You’ve drunk of Odin’s chalice,

shared a wino’s cup of meths.

You’ve cheated, lied,

confessed and died

a hundred little deaths.


You’ve crawled up to the firmament,

and seen the world imploded.

You’ve danced that dance

of fate and chance,

although the dice were loaded.


They gave you two bad options,

and said you had to choose.

They took your cheque

and rigged the deck:

How much d’you want to lose?


You thought that you were dying once.

You asked me if I’d hold you.

Through lovesick rain,

you’re back again.

I won’t say that I told you.


Don’t ask me what this lyric is:

I don’t know what it means,

past wrong and right

and black and white

and all those in-betweens.


Now looking back on all you knew,

you stand, and wait, and shiver.

The water’s deep,

but fare is cheap

across that final river.


In Vegas or Valhalla,

that’s where it all comes down.

You still can’t win

– the fix is in –

but it’s the only game in town.


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