The Others

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...