The Prisoner کے بول

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. Chorus 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 doesn't understand. Chorus 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. Chorus 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. Chorus A burning, bitter taste of irony A prisoner in the land of the free.