A Parody

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If you can keep y’ bread, when all about you

Are losing theirs, and blaming it on you.

If you can bluff, when all men doubt you

And make allowance for their bluffing too.

If you can be calm, but not too cool

Or be debonair, a man of gambling renown

Or be smart, and pick out the fool

Yet not too sharp, just wear the crown.

If you can hustle, and not make it your boss.

If you can deal, off up or down in your game.

If you can meet with win or loss,

And still be able to keep your dame.

If you can bear to lose a valuable token

To Mr Big, and his other fools

Then take their jaws, making them all broken,

And remain as always, quite within the rules.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it all on some sly shifty stuff

Then be called, and start at your beginnings

Winning more back, till they say “enough!”

If you force your hand with threes and pairs

Win the jackpot when they drop out

And be happy when they tear out their hairs

Saying, “You’ll be the one to give me gout!”

If you can talk with Cops, keeping your cool

Or walk with babes, nor lose your sharpness,

If neither foes nor friends change your rule

If all men near you turn instantly luckless.

If you can fill the mighty jackpot

With all your chips, and win it all in won,

Yours is the Casino, and all it’s got

And, which is more,

You’ll be a card sharp, my son.

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