The Ballad
When the working day is done
I refuse to belong to anyone.
And at night when I try to sleep
I hear the house of commerce in my dreams
Somehow, someone, somewhere
Owns everything I do.
Somehow, someone, somewhere
Owns all of me and owns all of you.
There's no charge,
There's no crime,
But we're all doing time.
To be honest there's not much I can do
But to sing a bad ballad for you.
I could suggest sabotage,
But success might prove a mirage.
'cause Somehow, someone, somewhere
Owns everything I do.
Somehow, someone, somewhere
Owns all of me and owns all of you.
Writer/s: David Thrussell
