Abie Rotenberg - 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

Written by:
ABRAHAM J ROTENBERG

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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