Ted Poley - Endgame

If I sing on the dotted line
Would you think: “Now this soul is mine”
When you see that it’s not for sale
Will you weep for a love that’s failed?

Out of cards, out of line
Out of chips in your hand this time
Out of ways, to amend
Out of hope – now this has to end

No way out – there’s no going back
Nothing left but an empty sack
Of a trust that was once in place
But its gone – memory erased

Out of cards, out of line
Out of chips in your hand this time
Lost the taste, for this hell
Time to go – but I wish you well

Gotta end the game – don’t lay the blame
On the back of the newly departed
Gone and lost control – its time to go
Had enough of the games that you started