Gypsy Boy

(álbum: Gypsy Boy - 1977)

The painted lantern circus
With the wagons swinging slowly
On a cold October morning
On a day that should be holy

Winding through the forest
As the sun is just a-breaking
And I am only seven
And a gypsy in the making

Winds a-blowing through me
And the canvas flaps a-tearing
And the folks is talking low now
'Cause they don't want me to hear 'em

And Uncle says there's trouble
With the bulls along the border
And I'm a-wond'ring why
And a-wishing I were older

Many years ago it seems
And many summers ending
The wagon wheels is rusting
And the axles is a-bending

And Grandma's bones is bleaching
And our hearts is still a-dying
But I'm a Gypsy Boy
And there ain't no time for crying

Now it's getting colder
And the air is growing ugly
And the wolves is getting bolder
And there ain't no sun above me

And I think it's time to move now
But I don't know where we're going
And I know it won't be long now
Before it starts to snowing

Babies crying softly
And the women are a-sighing
And somewhere in a wagon
There's a soul that must be dying

'Cause the crepe is hanging black
From the window of each lorry
And we'll likely camp at sunset
So's the body can be buried

So the carts will rumble
Though there ain't no road to travel
And I listen to the grinding
Of the wooden wheels on gravel

And the sad songs and the old songs
Will warm me and they'll hold me
'Til my head at last grows weary
And the arms of sleep enfold me

For I am a Gypsy Boy
And my home is where you find me
For I am a Gypsy Boy
And my home is where you find me