You heard about the soldier, don’t cuss, he don’t drink, he don’t cheat.
His name’s Tombstone Poker.
He could whip the stuffing out of every single battle hardened, rough necked, drunk chain smoker.
He’d trick you into thinking that you’re winning when you’re drinking but, when all the chips are down, you’re in the doom zone.
Your money he’d be keeping when he said “read em and weep” and that’s the way he got the nickname ‘tombstone’.

Out there in the jungle we were smoking, we were drinking, we were sweating playing Texas Hold ‘Em.
Someone would always try to get him drunk but every time he’d shake his head and he’d refuse and scold em.
You think you’ve got enough but then you find that he was bluffing.
Man, you should have seen our awestruck faces.
None of us was folding and the hand that he was holding was a big bouquet of winning aces.
Tombstone Poker was a soldier.
His real name was Private McGee.
He could beat you at a game of poker faster than you could count to three.
If you would have met him he’d have told you “Leave them bad habits be. Cause if you do then you can have a winning hand every time just like me”.
A fire fight one evening came when everyone was sleeping except for Poker who was stone cold sober.
We’d all be killed in action unless he made a quick distraction so the barricade, he hopped right over.
He drew the fire away and every one of us was saved except for Tombstone.
Brother, that was his ending.
The enemy had shot him. Then a hand grenade had got him along with every cent of his winnings.