Lucky Fingers Max

Let me tell you a story, it may even be true

'Bout a fella who fell through the cracks

He was a hustler a gambler who lived on the edge

And they called him Lucky Fingers Max

He'd wager and win at the track and the fights

Rolled sevens when he threw the dice

But if you asked him for a dime, he'd laugh in your face

He was lucky but he wasn't too nice

Lucky, Lucky Fingers Max – he had a heart as black as coal

Lucky, Lucky Fingers Max – would he ever find, would he ever find his lost Jewish soul

One day he got a tip from some friends of his in Jersey

Bout a fighter named Tiger Malone

His opponent's gonna lay down in the seventh round

You oughta bet everything that you own

Lucky bet his money, his house, and his Caddy

Sat down to watch the fight with a snack

Things were going fine 'til the end of the sixth

When Tiger dropped dead from a heart attack!

No more Lucky Fingers Max – now destitute and broke

No more Lucky Fingers Max – his lucky life, his lucky life had gone up in smoke

He was hiding from the cold in a worn-out Shul

When the Rabbi came over and said

Let me lend you some money from the Synagogue fund

You can buy yourself a coat and some bread

Rabbi, Lucky said, you don't understand

I'm a gambler a hustler a cheat

All I see is a Jew the old Rabbi replied

Who needs to get back – back on his feet

Lucky took the money and went to the track

Put it all on Teapot Kelly to win

In a photo-finish, he won by a nose

Lucky Fingers was in business again

Now somewhere in Brooklyn, there's a brand new Shul

Three stories of precious stained glass

All it says on the plaque is the money came from heaven

An anonymous gift – of cold cash

Lucky, Lucky Fingers Max – still has a long, long way to go

But Lucky, Lucky Fingers Max – got lucky

Got Lucky and found out - he has a Jewish soul

Lucky, Lucky Fingers Max