Little deck of crumpled cards, I feel and caress, ponder my quandry and stress.
I cut and and cut and fold, can you reveal what fate might hold? Dare I ask? Am I so bold?
Pretty pictures in the wavering candle light, show me truth I pray and steer me right, grant me now once and true the gypsy sight.
Major, minor, cups and kings, reveal to me what my future brings! Am I the black haired man, holding wand aloft? Am I the fool that merrily towards his doom does waft? An’ who be the queen with starry eyes so soft?
I tremble as I watch the tower fall, and hope as I watch the sun rise tall. I can so nearly hear the song of fate sound clear or is it the tolling of the raven bell as death draws near?