Текст: Fist Of Fury. Black Jack.

The gambling den 'round the corner was closer than his home. He left his girl alone right there, only thinking of his own. He plays the cards each day again, like if there's nothing else he wants. Lose some, win some, he must think, while spending all his wages. He was expected at the pub, to have a drink with his friends. It even seems like those guys now became less important than the fact he wins. Some day he might think he became a millionaire. But what if he considers that he has lost a million things. Nothing left of his pride and no more selfrespect. Black Jack stands alone .... he misses coming home.