The act of love . . . is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself.

Albert Camus

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You Gotta Move
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You gotta move
You gotta move
You gotta move, child
You gotta move
Oh, when the Lord gets ready
You gotta move
 
You may be high
You may be low
You may be rich, child
You may be poor
But when the Lord gets ready
You gotta move
 
You see that woman
Who walks the street
You see that police
Upon his beat
But then the Lord gets ready
You gotta move
 
You gotta move