What Are The Odds (lyric)

‘What are the odds’, said the man of the cloth, ‘that you’ll make it out there?
Life on the road, unknown cities abroad, where the people don’t care
Like we do over here, So listen up my dear, I kid you not
You’ll be hungry and cold, with no one to hold, regretting the lot. What are the odds?’

‘What are the odds’, she told the man of God, ‘I’ll make it here?
I’ve got a talent to sing, play anything that has strings, but the people don’t care
There’s no way I can live here, the talent God gave me needs be heard
And the town folks welcome a siren so seldom. But more, what are the odds? And I have been hurt.

Chorus:

The people in the whole town rose
The coffin with the dead girl shows
God always listens
but what are the odds
some prayers are vicious
Is that God’s fault or not?
What are the odds?

What are the odds small town people might envy a girl free enough to flee
a townlife secure, no puzzlement to endure, who ever would be
ungrateful to her kin, it sure must be a sin, to search (for) fame and fortune
Better safe than sorry, and she made us worry beyond any proportion.
Now she sings a different tune.

Chorus:

The people in the whole town rose
The coffin with the dead girl shows
God always listens
but what are the odds
Some prayers are vicious
Is that God’s fault or not?
What are the odds?