Santana goes AOR. Tämä 70-luvun lopun biisi ei anna mitenkään maireaa kuvaa diilereistä.
”As the evening sun goes down
The dealer shuffles into town
Makes a note of what’s a float
And spinning ’round, he’ll cut your throat
In the time it takes to heal
The dealer’s made another deal
When he plays, he plays for keeps
And sweeps the spinning roulette wheel
Dealer, Dealer
Like the mighty ocean’s roar, he gets his share and more
Evil to the core and proud
If you cross him off for sure he’ll get even with the score
Leave your wife a weeping widow on the shore
Between the desert and the dark
Money is his only love
Feeling nothing deep inside
His mind is governed by his pride
In a smoky little room
Shadows moving in the gloom
Someone turns a running flush
And breaks the deathly quiet hush
Dealer, Dealer”