If Luck, truly does favor,
the honest, and true and prepared.
Then I'm of the sort that's not ready,
a liar; not to have cared.
Well, Luck can do itself,
a word that rhymes with it's name.
Because, from where I am sitting;
it's the only thing I can blame.
But I guess I don't really need it.
Who wouldn't be happy with all that I've got?
Me. That's who. And I mean it.
I'd kill to have it than not.