Something on You

They’ll be lurking in the shadows every time you turn your back
In wingtips and threepiece suits and spotless bowler hats
And a whisper in the alley leads off the evening news
Every word you’ve spoken being turned back on you

They’ll listen in to every call at any time of day
They’ll get it down on paper, they’ll get it down on tape
In a basement around the corner or a van just down the block
There will be a recording every time you talk

They’ll shine it in your face, put your civil rights on hold
Asking questions with answers they already know
And if you spill your guts or play it close to the vest
It will end up in a memo on the Director’s desk