|
I'm getting tired and sick |
|
Of you calling it chick |
|
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-neighbours |
|
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 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 you 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... |
