the old gypsy poets they lived on their wits
they lived off the land and on pony's did sit
they rode the roads daily and sang of the day
when the rabbits did run and twer hares in the hay
the old fairground great wheel keeps spinning around
with the lights and the music the organs sweet sounds
the darts they did throw and the cars they did roar
when the stars were a shining the nights on the moors
the old songs are best our granfer did say
that twer good in the brambles where rabbits did play
where church bells did ring to welcome the day
as the gypsy wrote verse and went on his way