Next (au Suivant) Lyrics - Singles - Jacques Brel Is Alive And Well And Living In Paris

Next, 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, next 

Me, I really would have liked 

A little bit of tenderness 

Maybe a word, a smile 

An hour of happiness 

But next, next 

Oh, 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, 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, next 

I swear on the wet head 

Of my first case of gonorrhea 

It is his ugly voice 

That I forever hear 

Next, next, next 

That voice that stinks of whiskey 

Of corpses and of mud 

It is the voice of nations 

It is the thick voice of blood 

Next, next, next 

And since then each woman 

I have taken to bed 

Seems to laugh in my arms 

To 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 understands 

Next, next 

And when I am not screaming 

In a voice grown dry and hollow 

I stand on endless naked lines 

Of the following and the followed 

Next, next, next, next 

One day I'll cut my legs off 

Or burn myself alive 

Anything, I'll do anything 

To get out of line to survive 

Not ever to be next 

Not ever to be next