Marc Almond

Never to be next

Wholly naked, 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 innocence 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 regretted missing school
(next, next)

But I swear on hearing that sergeant who was not worth twopence
It was a dirty trick that 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 succuming 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 delerium, well I scream and demand:
He's next!

well, I'm not delerious, 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 :| :|

I want never... never... never... never... never... never to be next!

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