Last Call

He sits and stares, waiting for thunder After awhile, I started to wonder How he got so hollowed out I didn't even recognize him yesterday The clock ticks like a small drop of water The clouds roll in the sun starts to fade away As the rain comes down he begins to pray Now it's the dealer's turn to fold Cause the charade is getting old You can sit and wait for lightning to strike But the wind will takes its toll He lifts his head, gets up in a daze Out of the fog and into a maze That's the way it starts everyday So it seems the well's running dry All he does is look up to the sky and beg Laughing as they hand him a dead bouquet Now it's the dealer's turn to fold Cause the charade is getting old You can sit and wait for lightning to strike But the wind will takes its toll Now it's the dealer's turn to fold Cause the charade is getting old You can sit and wait for lightning to strike But the wind will takes its toll The wind will takes its toll Last call, last call Let me know when this all sinks in Last call, last call The lights are on but you're not leaving