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!"