Music Song Lyrics

The Soul of the Gambler Lyrics

Where now the huts are empty,
Where never a camp-fire glows,
In an abandoned cañon
A gambler's ghost arose.

He muttered there, "The moon's a sack
Of dust." His voice rose thin:
"I wish I knew the miner man;
I'd play, and play to win.

"In every game in Cripple Creek
Of old, when stakes were high,
I held my own. Now I would play
For that sack in the sky.

"The sport would not be ended there.
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'Twould rather be begun.
I'd bet my moon against His stars
And gamble for the Sun."