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, 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 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...



Oh-oh oh-oh

The others...

Oh-oh-oh

Here comes the others

Here comes the others



The Others, O-oh-Oh!

The Others, O-oh-Oh!

The In-Lovers, O-oh-Oh!



The others, others, others O-oh-Oh!

The others, The others O-oh-Oh!

The others, others, others O-oh-Oh!