|
She said, "She had no money" |
|
But he was in doubt |
|
He told her "I used to be in too |
|
But now he was out |
|
Spare some small change lady |
|
And I'll be on my way" |
|
She looked into his eyes |
|
And deep in his soul |
|
I know she was wonderin' |
|
If he was in control |
|
She muttered to herself |
|
"Those beggars where do they all come from? |
|
He said, "I'm not a homeless man |
|
I'm a gypsy by trade |
|
And I'm travelin' this land |
|
I'm not a homeless man |
|
He moved through the streets |
|
With his headband low |
|
Never thinkin' he would ever see |
|
That woman again, you know |
|
Just sleepin' in the doorways |
|
And alleys like he always had |
|
The years rolled by |
|
And later on |
|
He spotted an old woman |
|
All tattered and worn |
|
Hard times had got her |
|
Her clothes were ragged and old |
|
She said "I'm not a homeless woman |
|
I'm a gypsy by trade |
|
And I'm travelin' this land |
|
I'm not a homeless woman |
|
Sometime in the daytime |
|
Sometimes at night |
|
You will see a couple walkin' |
|
They'll come into sight |
|
Pushin' their carts |
|
And holdin' hands |
|
If you ask to help |
|
They'll just run away |
|
Like little children out to play |
|
And if you ask |
|
"Who are you? |
|
They'll always say |
|
"I'm not a homeless man |
|
I'm a gypsy by trade |
|
And I'm travelin' this land" |
|
She's not a homeless woman |
|
I'm not a homeless man |
|
"I'm not a homeless man |
|
I'm a gypsy by trade |
|
And I'm travelin' this land" |
|
She's not a homeless woman |
