Like in crossroads
She threw dice with the devil
Or maybe it was God, or the moon
Who knows what shows it's face
On a friday afternoon

The house was quiet
The tape recorder full of lies
And a young girl, in desperate need of a piano
Were stuck with her guitar

Her only chip, was what her fingers possessed:
Images stored in her hand
"It might make the gods smile", she thought
And put more than half her kingdom down

She never asked for much:
The ears to catch the breath of life
The nerve to keep her head up high
The knowledge of a voice, to have and to hold
In return she would give
The definition of herself
Measured in gold, already bought and sold
But she knew she had to sing to be able to live

So one day she threw dice with the devil
Or maybe it was God, or the moon
Who knows what shows itself
On a friday afternoon
And the demons smiled at her
They came down, they wined and dined
And they gave her what she craved
But they didn't want what she had to give
So they took her will instead

One day she threw dice with the devil
Or maybe it was God, or the moon
Who knows what shows itself
On a friday afternoon