Names spin around in that big glass ball,

You hope it’s no one you know at all,

They reach inside and call your name,

Congrats tribute- you’re now part of the Games,

And suddenly everyone’s crying and saying good- bye,

Knowing there’s a ninety- nine percent chance that you’ll die,

Once the papers were swirled and your name was drawn,

Doesn’t matter that you’re still breathing- you’re already gone,

For a couple of days the Capitol life is yours,

As you’re swept off on interviews and tours,

And then you’re trained to use a spear or knife,

But all you want is to keep your life,

And as the day begins to draw near,

You can’t chase away your growing fear,

You already lie awake every night

-To kill or be killed- it just doesn’t seem right,

To be a tribute is never what you wanted,

Already you hear ghosts and are being haunted,

The pressure is building into a massive flood,

The Capitol’s calling, thirsting for blood,

For them it doesn’t matter that twenty- three people’s lives will be done,

For them it’s just entertaining- all in good fun,

And suddenly you’re standing there- The Games about to begin,

You can just imagine the blood bath that you’ll be in,

All of the tributes will soon be released,

Maybe your death will be quick at least,

You think of all your loved ones crying,

Imagine them watching you dying,

You think of all the good byes that you haven’t said yet,

And everything in you burns in regret,

All of the things you never said,

And now you’re going to end up dead,

In the Arena, standing alone.

All you can think about is home,

Send up one last prayer that you’ll survive,

Now all you focus on is staying alive,

You imagine the lives of those who have won…

Well, here’s your chance, the Games have begun!

You fight alone now and you have to be your own savior,

Good luck to you, tribute,

And may the odds be ever in your favor.



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