The Gambler (DJ Style) Songtext
von Kenny Rogers
The Gambler (DJ Style) Songtext
On a warm summer′s evening
On a train bound for nowhere
I met up with a gambler
We were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns a-staring
Out the window at the darkness
'Til boredom overtook us
And he began to speak
He said, "Son, I′ve made a life
Out of readin' people's faces
Knowing what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes
So if you don′t mind my saying
I can see you′re out of aces
For a taste of your whisky
I'll give you some advice"
So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his face lost all expression
Said, "If you′re gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right"
You got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold ′em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin′ at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing′s done
"Every gambler knows
That the secret to surviving
Is knowing what to throw away
Knowing what to keep
′Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand′s a loser
And the best that you can hope for
Is to die in your sleep"
And when he finished speaking
He turned back toward the window
Crushed out his cigarette
And faded off to sleep
And somewhere in the darkness
The gambler he broke even
And in his final words
I found an ace that I could keep
You got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold ′em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin′ at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing′s done
You got to know when to hold ′em
(When to hold 'em)
Know when to fold ′em
(When to fold 'em)
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you′re sittin' at the table
There′ll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing's done
You got to know when to hold ′em
Know when to fold ′em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin′ at the table
There'll be time enough for countin′
When the dealing's done
On a train bound for nowhere
I met up with a gambler
We were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns a-staring
Out the window at the darkness
'Til boredom overtook us
And he began to speak
He said, "Son, I′ve made a life
Out of readin' people's faces
Knowing what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes
So if you don′t mind my saying
I can see you′re out of aces
For a taste of your whisky
I'll give you some advice"
So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his face lost all expression
Said, "If you′re gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right"
You got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold ′em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin′ at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing′s done
"Every gambler knows
That the secret to surviving
Is knowing what to throw away
Knowing what to keep
′Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand′s a loser
And the best that you can hope for
Is to die in your sleep"
And when he finished speaking
He turned back toward the window
Crushed out his cigarette
And faded off to sleep
And somewhere in the darkness
The gambler he broke even
And in his final words
I found an ace that I could keep
You got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold ′em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin′ at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing′s done
You got to know when to hold ′em
(When to hold 'em)
Know when to fold ′em
(When to fold 'em)
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you′re sittin' at the table
There′ll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing's done
You got to know when to hold ′em
Know when to fold ′em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin′ at the table
There'll be time enough for countin′
When the dealing's done
Writer(s): Don Schlitz Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com