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like that Gaga lady said Not my fault Not my fault Not my fault, oh Not my fault Not my fault Not my fault Not my fault What's by my fault is My
Picasso sou jou skilder Breda sou jou naak wou uitbeeld Cohen sou jou siel wou aangryp Prinses sou graag kinders by jou wil hê Soos ‘n gypsy dans jy
confused You inspire this little baby is my muse Didn’t care about the boy, man’s making tunes Stay by me, even if it’s win or lose Even if it’s win or lose
Sing, muse, of the passion of the pistol Sing, muse, of the warning by the whistle On a night so dark in the waning A dawn obscured by slate sky
Sing, muse, of the passion of the pistol Sing, muse, of the warning by the whistle On a night so dark in the waning A dawn obscured by slate sky
the shed I was hanging by my front door, wishing to God I was dead I went to a little gypsy at a fortune telling place Well, I went to a little gypsy
And consider my little dose of sage I I been going coo coo for puffs But not coco Maybe a four loco Maybe a piece of tho tho but I suppose a must All might fold
the dirt You know I whispered a verse Ancient scriptures ringing Like a gypsy's curse I believe it Cos we all think too much and we feel too little love Far
keep adding by itself until the day That you know what you wanna And i know that I wanted it too But I don't know if it's for good So, little green I
You know you cute little heartbreaker Hips so thick you know you a prat shaker You know you on the clock but you just won't stop I see you walking
Somebody wake me ‘Fore I forget how I got by I am a gypsy girl, good thing you’re a gypsy too You take the worn-out stairs, I elevator it to you You smell
got a little bit of time, Im saving it for ya Come fall in love with a leader Come be my muse girl, my Mona Lisa I’ll rock your boat like we was bumping
the gypsy When I approach rappers be takin' notes Drop like I shoulda invented the rain coat Absolute I love to burn to the root I keep coming till
Timberlands turn shitty Gritty, smack the driver's head in the gypsy When I approach rappers be takin' notes (uh-huh) I drop like I shoulda invented
Timberlands turn shitty Gritty, smack the driver's head in the gypsy When I approach rappers be takin' notes (uh-huh) I drop like I shoulda invented
It seems so hard and never stops with little gypsy Has harp in pouch and has no money on his track He lost his home and so fed up with living bitty
The U.S. of A. has really got the most Love to watch the miles and the cities fly by Tearin’ up the road with a gleam in my eye I’m goin’ coast to coast
I'd let him in, the jerk. Now my silly little sister went to some vlachos coffee-grind reader And had a gypsy glint in her eye when she'd smirk,
and Lokust Luciano Welcome I think it would be best if we get the introductions out of the way So NineFingers why don't you go first and tell us a little bit
and I can't thank you enough Little did I know we'd share these dreams Piece by piece we'd learn to sing You can't make this up I thank God we found
You can still find it online You and me, two guitars, side by side The moment when our necks collide And I still search for you sometimes An indie
diggin' down under the hood After clearin' a path to the water pump, and takin' a four hour break, By hour 27 we were all good, And we sailed From little
Gypsy woman told my mama 'while 'fore I was born Got a boy child comin' mama he'll be a bad one, now I'll make all you little girls turn your heads
Call me your nymph Praise me for martyr, praise me for sin Call me your muse A Sprite or an elf you cry to then use I will not suffer, ah-ah
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