Carpenter The painted lantern circus With the wagons swingin' slowly On a cold October morning On a day that should be holy Windin' through the forest As the sun is just a-breakin' And I am only seven And a gypsy in the makin' The wind's a-blowin' through me And the canvas flaps is tearin' And the folks is talkin' low now 'Cause they don't want me to hear 'em And Uncle says there's trouble With the bulls along the border And I'm a-wonderin' why And a-wishing I were older Many years ago it seems And many summers endin' The wagon wheels is rustin' And the axles is a-bendin' And I think it's time to move now But I don't know where we're goin' And I know it won't be long now Before it starts to snowin' Babies cryin' softly And the women are a-sighin' And somewhere in a wagon There's a soul that must be dyin' 'Cause the crepe is hangin' black From the window of each lorry And we'll likely camp at sunset So's the body can be buried And so the carts will rumble 'Til there ain't no road to travel I'll listen to the grindin' Of the wooden wheels on grave! The sad songs and the old songs Will warm me and will hold me And my head at last grows tveary And the arms of sleep enfold me For I'm a gypsy boy And my home is where you find me I'm a gypsy boy And my home is where you find me.