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 her, 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, Oh-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...
The Ark - 2005 - State Of The Ark еще тексты
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- The Ark - The Others (0)
- The Ark - 2005 - State Of The Ark - 07 - The Others (0)
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