Gypsies

Late last night the gypsies came,

Nobody knows from where.

Where they’ve gone to no-one knows,

And no-one seems to care.

 

Down by the trees on the river road

I heard them singing round their fire.

A fiddler played into the night

For this wandering gypsy choir.

 

There were men with ’kerchiefs round their throats,

White-haired ancients, wise with years.

Dark-eyed girls in scarlet shawls

Danced with silver in their ears.

 

But in the morning they were gone,

Like an early mist to who knows where?

Only the cold north wind that blows

And sweeps the maple branches bare.

 

No sign of a mongrel gypsy dog,

No sign of a dancing gypsy child.

Only a burned-out gypsy fire

That lit their gypsy dance so wild.

 

Late last night the gypsies came,

Nobody knows from where.

Where they’ve gone to no-one knows,

And no-one seems to care,

 

Gypsies. Original poem Rachel Field.

New words and music © Bill Adair/Sad Jeb Music 2019

Music and lyrics are the copyright of Bill Adair. You may use the songs and you may print the lyrics in order to learn them but you may not reproduce any of this material in written, printed or recorded form, online or offline, for any other purpose than your own personal use without permission from the copyright owner. The use of any of the content, written or recorded, for any commercial or profitmaking purpose online or offline is totally prohibited.

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