I’m getting sick Of you calling it ”chic” To describe what is that I am when I know that I’m damned, cause I got no own place to go
I’m getting sick and tired You say you know my kind But I’m a one of a kind I’m blind leading blind Cause we got no own place to go
But we’re the pounding of the drums We’re your next-door neighbour You sure must have known You got nowhere to go
The Others, O-oh-Oh! The Others, O-oh-Oh! The In-Lovers, Oh-oh-Oh!
I’m building an army of misplaced lovers Known as ”the others” Working under covers of love Cause we got nowhere else to go
Gonna enlist every baldheaded chick with a dick Every queer that is here so you stupid gits Know You’re fucked-up, nowhere to go
Hear the pounding of the drums from your next-door-neighbour
You sure must have known You got nowhere to go
The Others, O-oh-Oh! The Others, O-oh-Oh! The In-Lovers, O-oh-Oh!
I’m building an army of misplaced lovers Known as ”the others” Working under covers The Others…Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.