At the Arcade

Place your coins in the machine
And watch the puppets dance
Or carousel go 'round and 'round,
The ponies all a'prance.

The fortune teller makes her guess;
The baseball players swat.
The circus comes to life
For just a quarter in the slot.

The old arcade is still alive
On San Francisco's pier,
So naturally, we did indulge
As long as we were here.

But I got taken by one game -
The name - "End of the Trail" -
A desert with a skeleton
And wagon, built to scale.

I wondered what my money
In that scene could make occur.
My quarter caused the shreds
Of wagon cloth to slightly stir.

Okay, it was a sucker's bet,
But how it made me grin!
Well worth the change I paid
To one who thought he reeled me in.