| They used to laugh at old Gypsy Fred
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| And the songs he had in his head
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| He sang about the stars and the skies
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| Sang about the truth and the lies
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| No one heard the tales that he told
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| They all said that he was too old
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| Used to call him weak in the head
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| They all laughed at old Gypsy Fred
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| The dogs always snapped at his legs
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| No one would buy Fred’s pegs
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| Then they threw him out of the town
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| Said they didn’t want him around
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| So he tried the city instead
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| Busking in the streets for his bread
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| Suddenly the Gypsy was in
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| Not to like his songs was a sin
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| He was feeling fifteen feet tall
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| Gypsy Fred could fill any hall
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| But Gypsy Fred was too old to change
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| Found his new life very strange
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| Longed for the fields and the trees
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| Longed for the doors without keys
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| He left the fame
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| Went home again
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| Didn’t hear a song in the trees
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| Please don’t think it’s only the breeze
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| This may be an old man’s cry
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| Of love for the earth and the sky
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| La la la la la la la la
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| La la la la la la la, la la la
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| La la la la la la la la
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| La la la la la la la, la la la la la |