if you pick the path
with the half-healed scab
and you walk the way
with the deadbeat dad
I’ll be catching coins
you’ll detach success
at your last big break
though you dressed your best

you’ll be biting back
at the bet-boned boy
with a thing for luck
and a taste-test turn
when you still can’t cook
and the business burns
as he makes you mad
with the things you’ll learn

then the next high roller
lays the cards down flat
and you can’t control her
but we both knew that

and I get one dollar
into my little cup
for every time you fuck up