Bingo-Master

Two swans in front of his eyes Colored balls in front of his eyes It's number one for his Kelly's eye Treble-six right over his eye A big shot's voice in his ears Worlds of silence in his ears All the numbers account for years Checks the cards through eyes of tears Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out! All he sees is the back of chairs In the mirror, a lack of hairs A light realm which he fills out Hear the players all shout "Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out!" A glass of lager in his hand Silver microphone in his hand Wasting time in numbers and rhymes One hundred blank faces mime "Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out!" Came the time he flipped his lid Came the time he flipped his lid Holiday in Spain fell through Players put it down to Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out! Bingo-master's break-out! A hall full of cards left unfilled Ended his life with wine and pills There's a grave somewhere only partly filled A sign in graveyard on a hill reads "Bingo-master's break-out!"