This is all a game of poker,
and I have got a straight
To match with my face
(It is oh-so-easy
to keep you wondering what I've really got.)

In my two hands,
I’ve got all the hearts
and I am just waiting
For the perfect moment to play you.
(oh, but play you, I will.)

Beneath my emotion theres really no devotion
I know I haven't really been in love since he left.
I have this anti-poker-face that over-emotes
But the feeling has been sucked right out of me
and I am just an apathetic shell.

Baby, I am the black lady--
and sure, I'll give you more points
but in the end, you know you really don't want me.

I will never really be happy
Unless I am the one holding all the cards

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A/N: A combination of playing cards and still feeling like a bitch.