My luck has not been serving me at all,
His clovers and horseshoes failed me again.
I’ll try to give another source a call,
To hear the superstition it can lend.
My typical victories became rare
When luck’s so-called “skill” began to fall short.
I’ll lean on a hope, or maybe a prayer;
A crutch, a cane, any kind of support
Back in the days when luck stood by my side,
Everything would fit together perfectly.
I let its coincidence be my guide
And would drift with its flow aimlessly.
But when I thought about only myself,
Luck left me to stay with somebody else.