Luck was a lady who hated me,
gave me dregs, left me outside.
Nothing was my fault, just bad karma.
Nobody understood, nobody there for me.
So I was my own friend, me and it,
my friend, my pal, my obsession.
Then it left me comfortless, forlorn,
alone without hope. But when I gave up,
admitted I'd lost control, never had control,
had nothing… then I knew. Knew I had help,
hope, luck. And luck was a lady who loved me.
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