Close, No Cigar

I coulda been a contender
I coulda been on TV
I coulda slept with, you know, what’s-her-name
She had it real bad for me
I coulda been as big as Johnnie Ray
I coulda been such a star
Now I’m crying another blues
Close, no cigar
I coulda been on «Your Hit Parade»
I coulda written that song
I coulda smiled from shiny magazines
Until some new kid ame along
I coulda won that whole lottery
I even picked out my car
Where the hell did that ticket go?
Close, no cigar
Close, no cigar, that’s what they say
Better luck next time, you’re not just a bum, here, have a cliché
Close doesn’t count, too close to call
It works for horseshoes and hand grenades, that’s about all
I coulda been such a ladies' man
And joined the merchant marine
I coulda had a girl in every port
I coulda married the queen
If I’d-a bet on the winning horse
I woulda ridden him far
I put it all on an also-ran
Close, no cigar