The Prisoner - UB40

A misfit who is old before his time

Poverty has turned him to crime

Boredom gives him too much time to think

He pours another drink

A burning, bitter taste of irony

A prisoner in the land of the free

He wonders why his landscape looks so strange

Burger bars are home on the range

An empty bottle falling from his hand

He does’nt understand

A burning, bitter taste of irony

A prisoner in the land of the free

A cork unlocks the door to other lands

Of battles won and destinies in hand

A half-remembered state of liquid dreams

Where things aren’t what they seem

A burning, bitter taste of irony

A prisoner in the land of the free

A naked savage dressed in shirt and jeans

A burning, bitter taste of irony

A prisoner in the land of the free

A burning, bitter taste of irony

A prisoner in the land of the free