Oh, gypsy moon shine down on me 'Cause that wicked sun is gonna melt my wings And send me tumbling Lord, this wanderlust, it won't let me be I gotta purge my bones of this urge to roam Before the devil gets a hold of me
My heart's a vagabond at best And at its worst it's a murderer Gonna rip right through my chest I've got a girl at home, you know she treats me right But that open road is a mistress fair And she's looking fine tonight
And should I die in my sleep I would pray the Lord my soul to keep If I thought he was listening But my sins are many and graces few I thought my oats were sown But the weeds have grown And they're choking out my roots
Sweet whiskey wash my cares away And drown me in your amber waves Until I forget my name 'Cause my luck's run out; I've nothing to lose So tonight I sing a dancing tune And tomorrow I'll sing the blues
Oh gypsy moon shine down on me...
Lord, this wanderlust, it won't let me be I gotta purge my bones of this urge to roam Before the devil gets a hold Before the devil gets a hold Before the devil gets a hold of meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
