Two bandits drank in a tavern den,
Spilled their boasts again and again,
One bragged loud ‘bout a merchant’s gold,
One laughed hard ‘bout a widow sold.
Tankards rang and the fire burned red,
Dust and smoke curled over their heads,
Knives on belts and blood on their fame,
Every poor fool had fed their name.
Then through the door came a stranger pale,
Long black coat and a face gone stale,
No one knew him from road or town,
Yet he wore that cold half-smile like a crown.
He pulled up a chair, said, “Cards, my friends?
Let’s see where luck and the night both end.”
They grinned and thought, “Here comes easy prey,”
But the room grew still when he chose to stay.
_Chorus_
Oh, the cards fell black in the lantern light,
Ale ran bitter in the dead of night,
They laughed at first, thought the game was small,
Till the Devil leaned in and took it all.
Fiddle screamed and the table groaned,
Coins were gone and the fear had grown,
They played for pride, then flesh, then soul—
And the dark man smiled as he took control.
First he won a coin, then won a chain,
Then won the silver they’d stolen in rain,
Still they sneered, still they drank too fast,
Still believed they would bleed him last.
Then he said, “No gold? Then pay me true—
I’ll take what lives inside of you.
A memory here, a little joy there,
A touch of health from the bones you wear.”
One forgot his mother’s face that night,
One felt his left hand lose its might,
One lost summers, one lost sleep,
And still that stranger played too deep.
The bolder one cursed, “Deal once more!”
The other glanced at the tavern door,
Something in him had turned to frost,
He felt, at last, what it meant to lose.
_Chorus_
-//-
Then the stranger said with a crooked grin,
“Shall we raise the stakes? Let me in.
You’ve lost your luck, your strength, your years—
Now lay your souls upon the beers.”
The frightened one shook, but he would not yield,
Too deep in shame to leave the field,
So he spat and swore, “We play it through.”
The stranger said, “Then I’ll play for two.”
One last hand—
No prayer, no sound—
Only fiddle scratching circles round.
One last breath—
One last throw—
And the candles bent in a dead wind blow.
Oh, the cards fell black in the lantern light,
And hell looked in through the stormy night,
The stranger laughed when the game was done,
Like he’d known the ending from the first card won.
Then his body broke into smoke so black,
Rolled to the rafters, never came back,
One man dropped dead on the splintered board—
The other sat white, without a word.
So if you drink where the old fires glow,
And a pale man asks if you want to throw,
Hide your hand and leave your ale—
Some games are played where the saints all fail.
For gold can burn and luck can rot,
And health means less than the soul you’ve got,
Two bandits learned in that tavern hole—
Never play cards when the Devil calls.
#DarkFolk #DevilsBallad #TavernSong #CardGameSong #DarkBallad
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