It’s going to come out all right–do you know?

Good men cannot be played by these fools.

Even now we sit around the table this evening

I can tell they are bluffing,

I can see their cards

Their scheming

Planning.

It’s going to come out all right–do you know?

Our two-pair may not seem a flush.

But we’re ace high

And I can tell that they have nothing,

I can see their cards

Their scheming

Planning.

It’s going to come out all right–do you know?

Even if they stuff the pot we will not fold.

“Go all in, do your worst!”

The night is young, we might still catch their bluffing.

Before the polls have sealed our doom we might yet spot their stuffing.

I thought that I could see their cards

Their scheming

Planning.

But dead men rise to take the task, a dummy poll in pocket

Cold fingers snag paper and pen, “All in!” the cry, resounding.

Fear-snared hide behind their walls and masks, unsettled fingers tally

‘Til one million times eighty-one, old Joseph’s cause to rally.

It’s going to come out all right–do you know?

I do not know, for we have lost under stranger scenes.