| I was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
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| My mama had to dance for the money they’d throw
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| Papa would do whatever he could
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| Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of Dr. Good
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| Gypsies, tramps and thieves
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| We’d hear it from the people of the town
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| They’d call us gypsies, tramps and thieves
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| But every night all the men would come around
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| And lay their money down
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| Picked up a boy just south of Mobile
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| Gave him a ride, filled him with a hot meal
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| I was 16, he was 21
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| Rode with us to Memphis
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| And papa woulda shot him if he knew what he’d done
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| Gypsies, tramps and thieves
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| We’d hear it from the people of the town
|
| They’d call us gypsies, tramps and thieves
|
| But every night all the men would come around
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| And lay their money down
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| I never had schoolin' but he taught me well
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| With his smooth southern style
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| Three months later, I’m a gal in trouble
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| And I haven’t seen him for a while, uh-huh
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| I haven’t seen him for a while, uh-huh
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| She was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
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| Her mama had to dance for the money they’d throw
|
| Grandpa’d do whatever he could
|
| Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of Dr. Good
|
| Gypsies, tramps and thieves
|
| We’d hear it from the people of the town
|
| They’d call us gypsies, tramps and thieves
|
| But every night all the men would come around
|
| And lay their money down
|
| Gypsies, tramps and thieves
|
| Gypsies, tramps and thieves
|
| Gypsies, tramps… and thieves |