The turn shines in your eyes Kill or be killed is the impression she gives In green velvet your chance to reach your It's the flavor of the month: paradise and apple The Zen archer and his pagan faith
All or nothing: now or never: A flight: your chance The player is a fire burning Beauty and horror of a game of chance We always order We're always the flavor of the month
For the umpteenth time we start All over again: each ball in its place In green velvet is all exposed: everything is bet The player is a fire burning Beauty and horror of a game of chance We always order We're always the flavor of the month