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 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 place to go
But we're the pounding of the drums
We're your next-door neighbor
You sure must've known
You've got nowhere to go
The Others, oh, oh, oh
The Others, oh, 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 bald headed chick with a dick
Every queer that is here
So you stupid kids know you're fucked-up, nowhere to go
Hear the pounding of the drums
From your next-door neighbor
She sure must've known
You got nowhere to go
The Others, oh, oh, oh
The Others, oh, oh, oh
The In-Lovers, oh, oh, oh
I'm building an army of misplaced lovers
Known as 'The Others' working under covers
The Others, oh, oh, oh
The Others, oh, oh, oh
Here comes The Others, oh, oh, oh
Here comes The Others
The Others, oh, oh, oh
The Others, oh, oh, oh
The In-Lovers, oh, oh, oh
The Others, Others, Others, oh, oh, oh
The Others, the Others, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The Others, Others, Others, Others, oh, oh, oh, oh