There are no guarantees in this game.
We aren't opponents.
We are mixed ingredients.
We are collected stones from different beds.
We are sublimated water from different places,
We surround a common ground,
Neither of which holds any claim.
It is an agreement, with the weight of
All our heart to it.
Maybe that seems heavy-handed,
But then why is it so simple?
Maybe you're trying to make me fall in love,
And maybe I'm trying to convince you you're right,
But in the end, through all the niceties,
And the sweet words,
We have to stand plain and true.
What is your truth, and does it meet my own?

I am a lousy gambler.
I gamble my heart much, and every time it takes a little of me away,
But that's my gift, I guess.
I've been given such gifts before.
I keep them closer than anything.
Yours was cherished more than most,
But I was afraid.
Today I feel brave.
I seek you out, but you're your own.
I'm chasing myself through the eyes of a woman,
And she was born the sweetest of any,
With a heart like my own,
And all I ask is another chance.

So there's the thought. My truth is...
Well I believe in you, and for me.
I believe I might just be the right thing, for once.
It's hard to say these things. I could lose again,
And you could too. But I can't let fear decide what a good notion lends to the idea of better life.
You can't save me, but I'm not lost or in trouble. Just without that one thing, so dear to our hearts: real love.