Master of the Game

Her voice is soft and cool
She moves in nice and slow
Controls the space
He has no place
Nor the will to go

She sips her drink 
And makes him think
It's his decision
That he has vision
But he's on the brink

He's falling right into her spell
She knows the type so well
A million times she's played the roll
And now there all the same
She knows the score
No need to guess
It's a simple type of chess
He's been mated by the Master of the Game

She really plays that smile
It's a question of style
She sets the bait
Not long to wait
It only takes a little while

With movements subtle and fine
She tugs gently on the line
She sees that look
She sets the hook
She's like a cat about to dine

She gives him love that gets him high
Before she says her sad goodbye
She says that love is sometimes fickle
Such a shame
A salty tear to mark the end
She says that they can still be friends
He's been mated by the Master of the Game