Next - Remastered 2002
N. E. X. T.
Next
Naked as sin
An army towel, covering my belly
Some of us weep, some of us howl
Knees turn to jelly
But Next! Next!
I was just a child
A hundred like me
I followed a naked body
A naked body followed me
Next!
Next
I was just a child when my innocence was lost
In a mobile army whorehouse
A gift of the army, free of cost
Next!
Next!
Next!
Me, I really would have liked a little bit of tenderness
Maybe a word, maybe a smile, maybe some happiness
But Next! Next!
Oh it was not so tragic
And heaven did not fall
But how much at that time
I hated being there at all
Next!
Next!
I still recall the brothel trucks, the flying flags
The queer lieutenant slapped our arses
Thinking we were fags
Next!
Next!
Next!
I swear on the wet head
Of my first case of gonorrhea
It is his ugly voice that I forever fear
Next!
Next!
A voice that stinks of whiskey
Of corpses and of mud
The voice of nations
The thick voice of blood
Next!
Next!
Since then each woman I have taken into bed
They seem to lie in my arms
And they whisper in my head
Next!
Next!
Next!
All the naked and the dead
Could hold each other's hands
As they watch me dream at night
In a dream that nobody understands
And though I am not dreaming in a voice
Grown dry and hollow
I stand on endless naked lines of the following and the followed
Next!
One day I'll cut my legs off
I'll burn myself alive
I'll do anything to get out of life to survive
Not ever to be next
Next!
Next!
Not ever to be next
Not ever to be next
Next
Naked as sin
An army towel, covering my belly
Some of us weep, some of us howl
Knees turn to jelly
But Next! Next!
I was just a child
A hundred like me
I followed a naked body
A naked body followed me
Next!
Next
I was just a child when my innocence was lost
In a mobile army whorehouse
A gift of the army, free of cost
Next!
Next!
Next!
Me, I really would have liked a little bit of tenderness
Maybe a word, maybe a smile, maybe some happiness
But Next! Next!
Oh it was not so tragic
And heaven did not fall
But how much at that time
I hated being there at all
Next!
Next!
I still recall the brothel trucks, the flying flags
The queer lieutenant slapped our arses
Thinking we were fags
Next!
Next!
Next!
I swear on the wet head
Of my first case of gonorrhea
It is his ugly voice that I forever fear
Next!
Next!
A voice that stinks of whiskey
Of corpses and of mud
The voice of nations
The thick voice of blood
Next!
Next!
Since then each woman I have taken into bed
They seem to lie in my arms
And they whisper in my head
Next!
Next!
Next!
All the naked and the dead
Could hold each other's hands
As they watch me dream at night
In a dream that nobody understands
And though I am not dreaming in a voice
Grown dry and hollow
I stand on endless naked lines of the following and the followed
Next!
One day I'll cut my legs off
I'll burn myself alive
I'll do anything to get out of life to survive
Not ever to be next
Next!
Next!
Not ever to be next
Not ever to be next
Credits
Writer(s): Mort Shuman, Eric Blau, Jacques Roman Brel
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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