The Most Cursed Of Hands, Who Am I

The devil went down to the river
And he came to fall, to lose it all
To fool the fool too quick to call
While the gambler's stacks grew bigger
He had lost his sights through narrowed eyes
Too tempted by his wry desires.

Damned across fated paths
The time to fold had come to pass.

With gambler's glory delivered
He had thirst for more, a bigger score
A trophy no one could ignore
And the devil's wealth had withered
So with cunning class he offered fast his soul
The wager had been cast.

The gambler called, the river fell
And now the hand from out of hell
The devil smiled, looked in his eyes
He knew the loss was glorified.

The devil said "Revel in your victory
You've earned your damning
Pack your things and leave"
But the gambler only stood and stuttered
Stammering on words in disbelief
"Now you've won a new vocation
Pray to me that you can stand the heat!"
And that, the gambler saw
Meant he had gone and finally set the devil free.

Damned across fated paths
The hand he played would be his last.

Who am I? Who am I?
Just a gambler holding aces in the devil's eyes?
What is wrong? What's the sin?
Where's the answer? Where the hell do I fit in?
Or could it be, there's just a little demon lost in the debris
And I should idly bide my time
Until a wager releases me?
(Hey!)
It can't remain unknown.