Billy was born on Galloway Ground in 1672
A gypsy boy who'd wear a crown till the ferryman's pay was due
Billy would dance any girl that he could
Two hands through the grey wedding stone
Cleaking and swinging and footing a reel
Spinning each new bride home
King of the gypsy tinklers
High in his cave he will be
King of the gypsy tinklers
Roaming and living free
He slipped through the grip of his soldier in days
And skipped from a life on the sea
Turned his hand to smuggle and steal
Stood for the poor cuckoo breed
Billy Marshall was king of the gypsies they say
Seventeen wives through his bed
Six score years of black Galloway nights
It was never by law
Before he was led
King of the gypsy tinklers
High in his cave he will be
King of the gypsy tinklers
Roaming and living free
In seventeen years
Ninety-two the close of the day
Billy Marshall's time it had come
No more king of the gypsies they say
Has his last adventure begun
On his grave in the churchyard the pennies still lie
There's a fare that he still has to pay
Two hundred years and Billy still waits
For his soul to be carried away
Home of the gypsies he'll stay
Where the devil can't deny
He will be there
King of the gypsies they say
Roaming and living free
He slipped through the grip of his soldier in days
And skipped from a life on the sea


Billy Marshall's time it had come

Two hundred years of black Galloway nights
He slipped through the grip of his soldier in days
And skipped from a life on the sea
The king of the gypsies they say
Roaming and living free
Thank you.