|
Three fingers whiskey pleasures the drinkers |
|
And moving does more than the same thing for me |
|
Willy he tells me that doers and thinkers say movin' is a closest thing to being free |
|
Willy rosins his riggins laid back his wages he's dead cert on ridin' the big rodeo |
|
My woman's tight with an overdue baby and Willy keeps yelling hey Gypsy let's go |
|
Willy you're wild as a Texas Blue Norther ready rolled from the same makins as me |
|
Well I reckon we're gonna ramble till hell freeze us over |
|
Willy the wandering Gypsy and me |
|
Now ladies we surely will take up your favors |
|
And we'll surely worn you there never will be |
|
A single soul living that could put brand or handle |
|
On Willy the wandering Gypsy and me |
|
Well dance on the mountains shout in the canyons |
|
Swarm it ain't loose herd like a wild buffalo |
|
Jammin' our heads full of figures and angles and tellin' us stuff that we already know |
|
Willy you're wild... |
|
Yeah Willy you're wild... |