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L'été 42

de Richard Zillersman

Richard was born with the Moon turned wrong
Worn-out shoes, borrowed faith to hold on
When the day smiled at everyone else
For him it was rain, a hole, a spell

Wrong jobs, love that fades away
Empty table, pockets gone gray
Everything he touched turned into dust
The world would say: That man's out of luck

But one night in the smoke and neon light
Old bar, cards dealt just right
He joined the game with nothing to lose
A tired heart ready for bad news

The cards flipped over, nobody knew
Richard's bad luck suddenly flew
A pair, a three, then a king showed face
In that moment luck said: Okay

Oh, luck smiled on Richard, yes it did
But it smiled crooked, sharp and bitter-sweet
The money came like saving grace
But carried disaster in its face

The cash fell down like heavy rain
Friends appeared, promises came
Where there was silence, crowds took shape
Everybody family when money's at stake

He bought respect, he bought illusion
Lost his compass, lost direction
The bar became home, the night the law
And luck kept charging more and more

Gold weighs heavier than pain
When it comes with no roots, no love to gain
Richard won the game, lost his peace
Some things money will never release

Oh, luck smiled on Richard, yes it did
But it smiled crooked, sharp and bitter-sweet
The money came like saving grace
But turned to ruin in his heart's deep place

Now he looks at the cards, glass in hand
Richer than yesterday, poorer as a man
Learned too late, but learned it true
Not every victory's a gift from above to you

'Cause luck, my friend, is treacherous art
Kisses you today, chains your heart
And Richard's blues echo in the bar
Be careful what you ask to win at cards

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