When you’re gambling,
Life can be dark.
Whether you’re an early bird,
Or up with the lark.
Some people can gamble,
Without a problem, that’s fine.
But for those who’re addicted,
Well, they can never decline.
They’ll spend all their money,
Then maybe borrow, or steal.
Lies become natural.
Or at least that’s how it feels.
I know this first hand,
Because I’d done it for years.
I didn’t have boundaries,
I thought, “Nobody cares”
But people did care,
I was too blind to see.
In my own little bubble,
Just my gambling and me.
I started on the bandits,
And then the bookies shop.
I knew I had to end this,
But I just couldn’t stop
Such a long time ago now,
When I placed that first bet,
I won the jackpot,
And I started to sweat.
I felt such a hero
A quid for five p.
In my own little bubble
That bandit, and me.
That was just the start,
For my life full of friction.
You see it crept up on me,
My gambling addiction.
I was just a boy then,
My full life ahead.
I should have been optimistic
But I wished I was dead.
I got my first job
Mixing with the men
They took me to the bookies,
And it started off again.
I bet on dogs and horses.
I thought this is the life for me,
In my own little bubble,
That bookies shop and me.
The bookies then I do recall,
They had no tv sets.
You’d have one eye on the radio speaker
And one eye on your bets.
No flashy lights no attractive sounds
But still I got that buzz
The addiction, it had sucked me in
Because that is what it does.
I was sixteen when I started work,
I thought I’d have that job for ages.
But I got sacked within a year,
For stealing two colleagues wages.
I’ll tell you more another day
Its bedtime now for me
But I’m not in that bubble,
Not today, I’m in recovery.
