In the basement of the church there is a call box,
With a microphone acoustic you can cue.
And the bingo cards will each cost you a quarter,
You can buy yourself a lot or just a few.

I just hope I'm lucky with that old ball counter,
It's not like this game's real taxing on the brain.
Then some button marking killjoy screams like King Kong,
And here I sit just missing it again.

Please, Father, Please, call out B-17,
It's been so long, I feel so wronged, 'fore it's over.
Please, Father, please, why you bein' so mean,
Will I ever win at bingo here again.

If I had a dime for every time I won you,
I'd like have ten cents, I'm lucky as can be.
I just gotta win some money from that cash till,
Or tomorrow I'll be filin' bancruptcy.

I'm just hopin' there be money left to gather,
'Cause it's for sure I will be losin' my behind.
Just some notes that have that legal tender texture,
Got that payment on my Chevy on my mind.

Please, Father, Please, call out B-17,
It's been so long, I feel so wronged, 'fore it's over.
Please, Father, please, why you bein' so mean,
Will I ever win at bingo here again.