Two swans in front of his eyes
Colored balls in front of his eyes
Its number one for his kellys eye
Treble-six right over his eye
A big shots voice in his ears
Worlds of silence in his ears
All the numbers account for years
Checks the cards through eyes of tears
Bingo-masters breakout!
All he sees is the back of chairs
In the mirror, a lack of hairs
A light room, which he fills out
Hear the players all shout
Bingo-masters breakout!
A glass of lager in his hand
Silver microphone in his hand
Wasting time in numbers and rhyme
One hundred blank faces buy
Bingo-masters breakout!
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-masters breakout
A hall full of cards left unfilled
Ended his life with wine and pills
Theres a grave somewhere only partly filled
A sign in a graveyard on a hill reads
Bingo-masters breakout