Marc Almond - Never to Be Next (Au suivant) lyrics
[Marc Almond - Never to Be Next Au suivant lyrics]
Wholely naked
My my worn towel serving as loin cloth
Face turned red
Hands clutching at soap and froth
(Next, next)
I was barely 20 and we were over 100
Being the followers of the one who led
(Next, next)
I was still 20
When my innocense was revealed
In a mobile brothel of an army in the field
(Next, next)
Maybe I would have liked
A little touch of tenderness maybe a word
Or maybe a caress but no (Next, next)
It was not Waterloo and it was not Arcole
It was the moment
When I regreted missing school (Next, next)
But, I swear on hearing that sergeant
Who was not worth tuppence
It was a dirty trick that
God made his armies of impotence
(Next, next)
I swear by the head
Of my first bout of syphillis
It's that voice
That voice that sticks like a fist
(Next, next)
That voice that stinks of garlic
Foul drink and crud
It's the voice of nations
And the voice of blood (Next, next)
And since then each woman in the heat
Of succumbing in my skinny arms
Seems to be murmering next, next
Next deary, next sonny
All the followers of the world
Would hold each others hand
For in my delirium, well I scream and demand
He's nextwell I'm not delirious
I act as a reasoner
Say, it's more humiliating to be the followed
Than the follower (Next, next, next, next)
One day I'll cut my legs off
Or even become a nun i'll hang anything
So long as I'm not anyone never to be next
Never to be next never to be next
Next, next please, don't pick me next
Never to be next
I want nevernevernevernevernevernever to
Be next
My my worn towel serving as loin cloth
Face turned red
Hands clutching at soap and froth
(Next, next)
I was barely 20 and we were over 100
Being the followers of the one who led
(Next, next)
I was still 20
When my innocense was revealed
In a mobile brothel of an army in the field
(Next, next)
Maybe I would have liked
A little touch of tenderness maybe a word
Or maybe a caress but no (Next, next)
It was not Waterloo and it was not Arcole
It was the moment
When I regreted missing school (Next, next)
But, I swear on hearing that sergeant
Who was not worth tuppence
It was a dirty trick that
God made his armies of impotence
(Next, next)
I swear by the head
Of my first bout of syphillis
It's that voice
That voice that sticks like a fist
(Next, next)
That voice that stinks of garlic
Foul drink and crud
It's the voice of nations
And the voice of blood (Next, next)
And since then each woman in the heat
Of succumbing in my skinny arms
Seems to be murmering next, next
Next deary, next sonny
All the followers of the world
Would hold each others hand
For in my delirium, well I scream and demand
He's nextwell I'm not delirious
I act as a reasoner
Say, it's more humiliating to be the followed
Than the follower (Next, next, next, next)
One day I'll cut my legs off
Or even become a nun i'll hang anything
So long as I'm not anyone never to be next
Never to be next never to be next
Next, next please, don't pick me next
Never to be next
I want nevernevernevernevernevernever to
Be next