On a Saturday night, everything stops
Waiting for roll over’s and balls to drop
The machine, apparently, selected randomly
In a process we don’t actually see
The numbers recounted and numerically call
And again, I’ve managed to avoid them all
Am I being punished for a former life’s crimes?
I’ve more chance of lightning striking three times
I would move everyone I know to some where sunny
And charities could have the rest of the money
And to the idiots who stand there grinning
And go back to work after a million winning
I’ll be back stacking shelves, is what they are saying
If it doesn’t change your life, what’s the point in playing?
Oh Lotto you bastard, hear my plea!
I’ve bought my ticket, when’s it going to be me?
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