When the clocks strike
at last you gotta be in fever
I've
gotta leave home too
when the last train's
gone
We slide in the tattered town
and we float on the edge of time
Screaming eyes and glowing fever
When
the ghost of the town
rolls around in
fever
And the sky spreads a hundred
thousand tears
A dealer's mumbling
a prayer bells are jangling a hell off a lay
When bells ring out you find me in
fever
Well, just keep on movin
the
full moon tells you where to go
Well, just
keep on moving
'cause the devil's never
gonna say:
you're wrong
There's a
poet with his poem
what a poor boy!
He's stumbling with his muse right beside
He offers his poem some wine
his eyes
have infernal shine
this fallen minstrel
singing of fever
Heaving sin in my skin is
shaking in fever
The fall in your arms
gets hot
it's sweating love
We
drift on the breath of the night
A million
sighs in the pale yellow light
the need is
begging for fever
Well, just keep on moving
The full moon tells you where to go
Well, just keep on moving
'cause the
devil's never gonna say:
You're wrong
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