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D.O.A.
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The Prisoner
Apartment walls, halls are small
Government building, site much too small
These tiny boxes won't let me out
These tiny boxes are too remote
It's a screaming mess
Television city dream
Your robot's eyes gleam
In my future dream
It's not fate or chance
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It's the money in the bank
Burn their timber and gather bricks
Drive 'em fire, the bloody dicks
It's a screaming mess
And I am the prisoner
The prisoner, the prisoner
Go
[Incomprehensible]fate or chance
Kick somebody in the face
Burn their timber and gather bricks
Drive 'em fire, the bloody dicks
It's a screaming mess
A television city dream
Your robot's eyes gleam
In my future dream
And I am the prisoner
The prisoner, the prisoner
Well, I am the prisoner
The prisoner, the prisoner
The prisoner
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