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 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,

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



She was born in the wagon of a travellin' 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]