Itís the thousand years of beautiful history, really, that draws me to the casino.
[Itís just another quarter.
Just one more.]
Sure, the flashing lights and glitzy lifestyleís not so bad either,
óBut itís the history, the history that makes it so beautifuló
[Itís just one more.
Just twenty-five cents.
Whatís one more quarter?]
From small pox to alcohol and the walk of tears to Wounded Knee,
We hounded them.
[There were so many more.]
Like pirates we raped, pillaged and plundered,
And now we just stand by as we watch their solemn faces and lost ideals
With their suit made up of one more of my quarters.
Itís that irony that, I suppose, makes it so beautiful.
Itís also the allure of success.
I once hit it big,
It can happen again.
[It could happen again.]
But it isnít.
[I wonít let it.]