William H.A. Willbond MSM, CD

THE STOOK GAME

The top kick held his card ever so hard
as he winked at his US Army pard
fourth round option and the pot it was full
queen face card up was the down card bull?

And Hank who owned the Playboy Hotel
had lost a fortune – would he have to sell?
Yohanna his wife, she screamed at him
saying there’s no fuckin’ way that he could win

The pockets were black on my white shirt
from the soil on the money and ashes and dirt
US Dollars and Deutche Marks and Guilders were in play
as the stook game entered its fuckin’ third day

Slipped hundreds and fifties – into my boots in the John
I just kept on playing until my pot money was gone
and later as I counted – down on Rembrandt Square
the money I slipped to my friend was still there

Twenty five hundred guilders was what I did win
gambling like that is young soldier’s sin
the top kick had money he hit every pot
but I whittled away till some money I got

Hank borrowed some cash from the bar down the street
came back with that money and retook his seat
Hank was a star on the Dutch Soccer Team
Owning a bar was Yohanna’s life dream

Finally she made her crazed husband stop
the cards they were marked so she called the cops
The top kick was arrested along with his pard
playing high stakes stook, ya gotta keep on your guard.

I felt the wee bumps on each dirty face card
I knew when to quit and what cards to discard
So I bought a new suit and a new shirt and tie
by playing stook with a top kick a real shady guy

That was in Amsterdam when I was eighteen
on leave from the Rifles and serving the Queen
Drinking Amstel beer and smoking Camel fags
I made enough money for a new set of rags

Listening to the juke box I played Rambling Rose
and I got up and danced to my friend Nat King Cole
the stook game provided new duds and the WAM[1]
I had a great leave down in old Amsterdam!