| It was late last night when the boss came home
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| Askin' for his lady
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| The only answer that he got
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| «She's gone with the Gypsy Davey
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| She’s gone with the Gypsy Dave.»
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| Go saddle for me a buckskin horse
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| And a hundred dollar saddle
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| Point out to me their wagon tracks
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| And after them I’ll travel
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| After them I’ll ride
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| Well I had not rode to the midnight moon
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| When I saw the campfire gleaming
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| I heard the notes of the big guitar
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| And the voice of the gypsies singing
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| That song of the Gypsy Dave
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| There in the light of the camping fire
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| I saw her fair face beaming
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| Her heart in tune with the big guitar
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| And the voice of the gypsies singing
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| That song of the Gypsy Dave
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| Have you forsaken your house and home?
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| Have you forsaken your baby?
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| Have you forsaken your husband dear
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| To go with the Gypsy Davy?
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| And sing with the Gypsy Davy?
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| The song of the Gypsy Dave?
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| Yes I’ve forsaken my husband dear
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| To go with the Gypsy Davy
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| And I’ve forsaken my mansion high
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| But not my blue-eyed baby
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| Not my blue-eyed baby
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| She smiled to leave her husband dear
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| And go with the Gypsy Davy;
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| But the tears come a-trickling down her cheeks
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| To think of the blue-eyed baby
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| Pretty little blue-eyed baby
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| Take off, take off your buckskin gloves
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| Made of Spanish leather;
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| Give to me your lily-white hair
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| And we’ll ride home together
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| We’ll ride home again
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| No, I won’t take off my buckskin gloves
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| They’re made of Spanish leather
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| I’ll go my way from day to day
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| And sing with the Gypsy Davy
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| That song of the Gypsy Davy
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| That song of the Gypsy Davy
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| That song of the Gypsy Dave |