I was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
  My mama used to dance for the money they'd throw
  Papa would do whatever he could
  Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of
  Doctor Good
    [CHORUS]
  Gypsys, tramps, and thieves
  We'd hear it from the people of the town
  They'd call us Gypsys, tramps, and thieves
  But every night all the men would come around
  And lay their money down
    Picked up a boy just south of
  Mobile Gave him a ride, filled him with a hot meal I was sixteen, he was twenty-one
  Rode with us to Memphis
  And papa woulda shot him if he knew what he'd done
    [CHORUS]
    I never had schoolin' but he taught me well
  With his smooth southern style
  Three months later I'm a gal in trouble
  And I haven't seen him for a while, uh-huh I haven't seen him for a while, uh-huh
    She was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
  Her mama had to dance for the money they'd throw
  Grandpa'd do whatever he could
  Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of
  Doctor Good
    [CHORUS]
    [CHORUS FADES]