The Gamble of Genetics

 All the world's a gambling den

And all mankind must play.

You pick your vice or choose your sin

But luck has the final say.

 

Smokes or drink might be your choice

Or sex or nasty drugs,

Or maybe stress at school or work

Or dealing with super bugs.

 

Or foreign travel might get you

Through bug or faulty plane,

Or doing an unusual sport.

That bullet's got your name.

 

It's even said that every year

One hundred women die

From ironing their husband's shirts.

I'm sure it's not a lie.

 

But whether it's from wiring fault

Or tripping on the cord

My guess is that it could occur

From a surfeit of being bored.

 

Our genes determine how we live

And how and why we die.

In prison people share a gene

It's usually labelled “y”

 

Life often seems like a game of gin

Fate deals the cards for you.

You choose a suit and then collect

The leavings from the pool.

 

You've got a hand of pairs and runs

You think you are a winner.

Then fate gives you a dicky heart.

You should have been much slimmer.

 

For food is what it's all about

If you would hope to live.

So eat those greens and drinks those reds

A better life they'll give.

 

For every fag, you have a sprout

An orange with every gin

For every drug a redcurrant

And nothing from a tin.

 

For food can cure the things that kill

Can help you beat your fate.

And choosing which and when and how

May delay your final date.