The Game - Cold Chisel

«Who's that on the telephone»

The fisherman said

«Looks like a writer»

She turned her head

«Could be, we’ll see»

Ma ring replied

«There were rumours when he came»

And as the evening fell

Around the old hotel

The stranger left his dial-tone

His place was gone

In the game

«He's down from the city

And he’s here to think

He pays his money»

She got another drink

«Who knows, his book

Is closed to you and I

We may never know his name»

The music drifted down

The same repeated sound

«If Nat King Cole

Can save his sole

He’ll find his peace»

The fisherman eased his frame

«If I was asked

Just who’s to blame

To read his past

I’d have to say

She’s a woman.

.

.»

When all your cards are done

Just leave your share

And make your run

They’ll burn your contacts down

Plans on fire

You know they’ve won

Just turn and walk away

And start again, a brand new day

In lonliness their aim will turn

Against themselves

For one more play

In the game