The Gambler - Poem by David Beckham
Numbers mean a lot to me
Maybe not so much to you
I get up at 6
At work at 7
Breakfast at 8 and
Break at 9
I have the premonition
I'll go with:
The numbers are in
Ha ha...I rub my hands and smile
Lets see how lucky I am this time
I reach for my cross and I grab it tight
I fall to my knees and I pray real hard
'Lord please, make this my day'
The radio gets cranked
And my heart beat rise
'Lord, help me win'
The prayer of a desperate soul...
Am getting excited
My luck is near
And the rest of my life will be history
Am off my feet
Can dreams come true?
My time is here
All I need for Christmas is a 9
What a loss!
Am I ever so close?
It’s strange how these things happen
How luck, picks its own winners
Luck has a face
Its owner is smiling to the bank
Luck is blind
But it knows its way around our lives
Luck has destiny
It’s in the hands of whom it belongs
Yet, I read here:
'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread'
Go tell that to that lucky fellow
Comments about The Gambler by David Beckham
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You