cold the hills were upside down. But now that I have gone from here there's no place I'd rather be than to float my chances on the tide Back in the good old
I must be into somethin' bad for me 'Cause I sure lost a lot of weight Tell 'em I'm out on the road With some old rock and roll band Living like a gypsy
time with polite conversation Killing time in your shy hesitating way Killing time, killing my isolation Two lonely travelers breaking ice By opening up a few old
s shuffling in my head He lives ah he lived ah he live ah he's living And I'm never going to grow old wishing Could have my time again He shuffle with the gypsy
I went down one day, I went down one day to see a Gypsy woman Just one old day, yes I did I want to find out, I want to find out I want to find out, I
we drop one single Left the game now the whole world miss me Freak, this bitch like home girl Missy Like I'm sellin' liquor, got the whole world tipsy Sick and tired of old
suit Hair braided up and my jungle brother boots Hopped on the vine and swung through the city Today's your day, said the neighborhood gypsy Kept on jumpin
of life, don't expect a beautiful young woman like yourself to come on over here everyday. Have some old dude bangin' on her like a gypsy on a tambourine
up back the garage and polished up the chrome* Our gypsy biker coming home Sister Mary sits with your colors, but Johnny's drunk and gone This old town
My name is Jan the gypsy I travel the land There are no chains about me I am, me own man I can tell a fair old story which I'm sure ain't no surprise
away homes from the homeless And leave them to die in the cold The gypsy who begged for your presents He will laugh in your face when you're old (
I grab hold of the North Pole Not tryin' to meet the lost soul, at the crossroad We're bein' sucked up into the black hole Young becomes old, mighty
'm the hoochie coochie man I'm gonna get you, one by one I got set on that old hoochie coochie man And I'm yo' son of a gun Now the gypsy woman told
, who?s that stompin? all over my face? Where?s that silhouette I?m tryin' to trace? Who?s puttin' sponge in the bells I once rung? And takin' my gypsy
I can sit back like Jack Nicholson Watch niggas play the game like the lakers In a world full of 52 fakers Gypsies, seances, mystical prayers You superstitious