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You say you're dealing in facts, I say you're dealing from a marked deck; & you want to force my hand. But the nervous twitch of the truth is your tell. Calling your bluff & crying "Blackjack! Gin! War!" on your absolutes, I am the shaky hand in your house of cards logic: asking "why?" then kicking in your front door, letting the whole thing fall. An ace of spades straight through your king of hearts. |