Next
Naked as sin, an army towel
Covering my belly
Some of us blush, somehow
Knees turning to jelly
Next, next
I was still just a kid
There were a hundred like me
I followed a naked body
A naked body followed me
Next, next
I was still just a kid
When my innocence was lost
In a mobile army whorehouse
Gift of the army, free of cost
Next, you're next
Me, I really would have liked
A little touch of tenderness
Maybe a word, just a smile
Some instant happiness
But no, no, next, next
Oh it, it wasn't so tragic
The high heavens didn't fall
But how much of that time
I hated being there at all
Next, next
Now I always will recall
The brothel truck, the flying flags
The queer lieutenant who slapped
Our asses as if we were fags
Next, you're next
I swear on the wet head
Of my first case of gonorrhea
It's his ugly voice
That I forever hear
The, next, next
That voice that stinks of corpses
Of whiskey and of mud
It is the voice of theb nations
That thick voice of blood
Next, next
And since then, each woman
I've taken to bed
Seems to laugh in my arms
And whisper through my head
Next, next
All the naked and the dead
Should hold each other's hands
As they watch me scream at night
In a dream no one can understand
Next, next
And when I'm not screaming
In a voice grown dry and hollow
I stand on endless naked lines
Of the following and the followed
Next, next
One day I'll cut my legs off
And burn myself alive
Anything, I'll do anything
To get out of line, just to survive
And never to be next
Oh, never to be next
Next
Covering my belly
Some of us blush, somehow
Knees turning to jelly
Next, next
I was still just a kid
There were a hundred like me
I followed a naked body
A naked body followed me
Next, next
I was still just a kid
When my innocence was lost
In a mobile army whorehouse
Gift of the army, free of cost
Next, you're next
Me, I really would have liked
A little touch of tenderness
Maybe a word, just a smile
Some instant happiness
But no, no, next, next
Oh it, it wasn't so tragic
The high heavens didn't fall
But how much of that time
I hated being there at all
Next, next
Now I always will recall
The brothel truck, the flying flags
The queer lieutenant who slapped
Our asses as if we were fags
Next, you're next
I swear on the wet head
Of my first case of gonorrhea
It's his ugly voice
That I forever hear
The, next, next
That voice that stinks of corpses
Of whiskey and of mud
It is the voice of theb nations
That thick voice of blood
Next, next
And since then, each woman
I've taken to bed
Seems to laugh in my arms
And whisper through my head
Next, next
All the naked and the dead
Should hold each other's hands
As they watch me scream at night
In a dream no one can understand
Next, next
And when I'm not screaming
In a voice grown dry and hollow
I stand on endless naked lines
Of the following and the followed
Next, next
One day I'll cut my legs off
And burn myself alive
Anything, I'll do anything
To get out of line, just to survive
And never to be next
Oh, never to be next
Next
Credits
Writer(s): Mort Shuman, Eric Blau, Jacques Roman Brel
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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