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