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