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