The Gamble of Genetics
All the world's a gambling den
And all mankind must play.
You pick your vice or choose your sin
But luck has the final say.
Smokes or drink might be your choice
Or sex or nasty drugs,
Or maybe stress at school or work
Or dealing with super bugs.
Or foreign travel might get you
Through bug or faulty plane,
Or doing an unusual sport.
That bullet's got your name.
It's even said that every year
One hundred women die
From ironing their husband's shirts.
I'm sure it's not a lie.
But whether it's from wiring fault
Or tripping on the cord
My guess is that it could occur
From a surfeit of being bored.
Our genes determine how we live
And how and why we die.
In prison people share a gene
It's usually labelled “y”
Life often seems like a game of gin
Fate deals the cards for you.
You choose a suit and then collect
The leavings from the pool.
You've got a hand of pairs and runs
You think you are a winner.
Then fate gives you a dicky heart.
You should have been much slimmer.
For food is what it's all about
If you would hope to live.
So eat those greens and drinks those reds
A better life they'll give.
For every fag, you have a sprout
An orange with every gin
For every drug a redcurrant
And nothing from a tin.
For food can cure the things that kill
Can help you beat your fate.
And choosing which and when and how
May delay your final date.