I was born in the wagon of a traveling show
Mama used to dance for the money they'd throw
Papa would do whatever he could
Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of doctor good
Chorus:
Gypsies, tramps, and thieves
We'd hear it from the people of the town
They'd call us gypsies, tramps, and thieves
And every night
All the men would come around and lay their money down
We picked up a boy just south of mobile
Gave him a ride, filled him with a hot meal
I was sixteen, he was twenty-one
Drove with us to Memphis
And papa would've shot him if he knew what he'd done
Repeat Chorus
I never had schooling but he taught me well
With his smooth southern style
Three months later I'm a gal in trouble
And I haven't seen him for a while
Oh, no, I haven't seen him for a while
She was born in the wagon of a traveling show
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 doctor good
Repeat Chorus