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]