I was born in the wagon of a travelin´ 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
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
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
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
I haven´t seen him for a while
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