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At 6 o'clock in the morning, the duty calls every day
His job smells bad like a fish in a trash-can
And his eyes are small and looking sad

By little and little his friend had left
But he thought he wouldn't mind
'Cause in the evening when the day's gone
He's the master of the gambling-den

The trouser-pockets are filled with coins
so heavy they're hanging down to his knees
The slot machines sweat like a stembath
And the pinball shoots them all

Roll my ball roll - this is the chance
To get out of control
Roll my ball roll - it's my show
And I need these points to win

Solo: Thies, Frank

He doesn't need any communication
'Cause gamblers are lonely people