The Same Old Game - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
THE SAME OLD GAME. 
When I was quite a lad, And the darling of my dad, I was troublesome as troublesome could be; If I saw a little boy With a fancy little toy, I was sure to make him turn it up to me; And if he said to me nay I would upset all bis play, A proceeding, which was sure to bring me blame; And tho' my cheeks were dripping, With the scolding and the whipping, I would carry on the same old game. 
Chorus. The same old game, the same old game, I'd a spirit which the old one couldn't tame; For it mattered not to me how I suffered for the spree, I would carry on the same old game. 
As I grew up in life I was urged to take a wife, And was introduced to one of fashion's pearls; Not for Joe, I said, So I kept a level head, For I wasn't to be caught with paste and curls; She found it was no go, My wild oats I would sow, In sports and rackets that I need not name; So in spite of frieuds or foes, With fine horses and fine clothes, I carried on the same old game.-Chorus. 
Now I'll tell you something new-I was feeling rather blue, So I went to Coney Island for a spree; As I stepped upon the pier, I spied a little dear, Who slyly threw a kiss across to me; Thinks I, by jove! a mash, I must look out for my cash, As I offered her my arm and asked her name; But she, blushing, hung her head; So to myself I said, Here's a chance to work the same old game.-Chorus. 
To the Brighton then we went, Where my cash was quickly spent, On oysters, wine, cigars and lager bier; But judge of my surprise, When a rough with blood-shot eyes, Came up and roughly shook my pretty dear; Then turning round to me, You are rather fresh, says he, To rob me of the girl that bears my name; But I did quick reply, With finger to my eye, 
It's been played before, the same old game.-Chorus. 
And this thro' life you'll find, There are games of every kind, And life is nothing but a game of skill, Where each one does his best, For his selfish interest, And leaves the beaten one to foot the bill; Whilst he who holds the cards, Is sure of his reward, No matter fair or foul, it's all the same; For it's beat, and rob, and cheat, On Fifth avenue or Wall street, Oh! everywhere, the same old game.-Chorus.