I was born in the wagon of a travellin' show

My 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

Gypsys, tramps, and thieves

We'd hear it from the people of the town

They'd call us Gypsys, tramps, and thieves But every night all the men would come around

And lay their money down

Picked up a boy just south of Mobile Gave him a ride, filled him with ahot meal

I was sixteen, he was twenty-one Rode with us to Memphis

And papa woulda shot him if he knew what he'd done

CHORUS

I never had schoolin' 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,

uh-huh I haven't seen him for a while, uh-huh

She was born in the wagon of a travelin' show

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 Doctor Good

CHORUS CHORUS FADES