I thought the chance it was a hundred to one   On one thumb   I could count up the percentage of my coming undone   but now some calculation of impatiently fated rhymes   sourpatch ribbon to the wreck of my valentine   that a fine mess like this should get dished   I woulda made it more unlikely if I had one wish   I take ish with the interstitial liquid bliss   and insist another double on the rocks with twist   this a fist full of good credit   this a circumstance that I must edit   I said it ever thusly with the bust knee   you could trust me   can't front without two feet to step fuss-free   but see, that's just fine, I lost mine   handed then the bandit, thin: my last dime   watched the wheels spin thinking infinitesimal   my ten-decimal chance, the professional   gamblers scoffed   (but the bells went off)