All I really need is a deck of cards,
And a group of friends around a table.
We will slowly let down all of our guards
Where we no longer live by our label.
We lose ourselves to the power of the game
Underneath the sky of a sunny day,
And the only thing we hold that’s the same
Is the thought of our next brilliant play.
We will see the afternoon disappear
As we collect them for one last shuffle,
And maybe another round of cold beer
Through the tone of “it’s not the last” muffle.
Why does it need to be complicated
When this cheap deck keeps us satiated.
John Collings 