Prisoner - Little Axe

Each day he finds his way to the graveyard

Without flowers, without prayers

For hours he sits there on the floor

By the people lying there

He doesn’t know any name

Written in the cold stones

He spells each of them tenderly

Looks forward to be one of them

He’s a prisoner in his own world

Doesn’t take the challenge to break out

Poor prisoner in your own world

Is there nothing you can smile about?

Poor prisoner in your own world

Each day he leads his car to his office

Without thinking, without dreaming

He nods to everyone

Without even looking at them

He doesn’t know any face

Belonging to those name-plates

Ignores each of them naturally

Refusing to be one of them

He’s a prisoner in his own world

Doesn’t take the challenge to break out

Poor prisoner in your own world

Is there nothing you can smile about?

Poor prisoner in your own world