My father's the king of the gypsies,
Say, put a crackle on my back and
London, some fortunes for to tell.
Some fortunes for to tell,
some fortunes for to tell.
London, some fortunes for to tell.
As I was a -walkin' down a fair
A handsome young squire I
He viewed my brown cheeks
and he liked them so well
Says he, my little gypsy girl,
Says he, my little gypsy girl,
Oh sir, I reply, give me fast hold of your hand,
I see you have riches and houses enwound,
And all you lovely ladies, you must lay them all aside,
I am the little gypsy girl that is to be your bride.
That is to be your bride, oh, that is to be your bride,
I am the little gypsy girl that is to be your bride.
He led me through woods and
Where he had got servants
On the softest bed of dove they were so,
But in my man's heart, well,
His fortune I did tell, his fortune I did tell,
But in my man's heart, well,