Pick a card, any card,
You want that card? See, it wasn't hard!
What is it? Is it clubs, or diamonds, the lining of a ring?
Or is it else, something else, anything?
Neither? Number? I would have to guess three,
Why three? Why not? Why would it be two, when it could be!
Who knows, who cares. I sure as hell don't, but anyway, anywhere.
I wonder, eyes will wander, will you show me what you have?
I need to know, I need to see, what you hold from me.
Is it an ace, or a king? Or a jack, or a queen?
Tell me black, tell me red, I don't care, just make it said.
It must be hearts, I see! You have them in spades, oh yessiree.
Holding them in your blackened hands, red-stained,
But that's not ink, oh no it can't!
Not a diamond, shinning on a ring, not a club, to sacrifice a precious little thing,
Not a spade, to plant, a seed in a garden true, then what, praytell, exactly have you?
I knew it.
I know it.
Exactly how this stands. With me, as me. It's me.
You hold the King of Hearts in your hand.