Текст: Mark Knopfler. Sailing to Philadelphia. Sands of Nevada.

These tables are haunted by the ghost of Las Vegas
Their chips were once mountains but they came here to play
They could take me if they wanted but I have nothing worth counting
And like the sands of Nevada they go drifting away

Lady luck's still a mystery with her head on my shoulder
And I don't know why I still want her to dance
I guess that's all history what it is is I'm older
And I'm still a fool for your one-way romance

Her dice were red rubies, they rolled and they tumbled
And I never saw time running out with my roll
And in the wasteland of cut glass my dreams were all crumbled
And I've paid with whatever I had left for a soul

Now the dawn's broken even on a empty horizon
No reason for folding, no reason to stay
It's too soon to be leaving, too late for criticizing
And the sands of Nevada go drifting away