Proud little baby born Bastille Day
You took all my money then you gave it away
You put sixteen stitches in a three-inch cut
Now you just shiver; don't shake, don't strut
You got to move
You got to move
There's dirt on the coffin and nobody looking for you
You were a smokestack cloud the blacked out the sky
If it all goes to hell, let the bloody moon rise
You borrowed my blues then you sold 'em uptown
If it ain't yours better leave it where you found it
You got to move
You got to move
There's dirt on the coffin and nobody looking for you
Naked and bleating as the day you were born
Is that an ice cream truck or Gabriel's horn
The walls just whisper, the wind just moans
The whole world's haunted when you're all alone
You got to move
You got to move
There's dirt on the coffin and nobody looking for you
