Gypsy Davy

Woody GuthrieWoody Guthrie 

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Woody Guthrie

Woodrow Wilson "Woody" Guthrie (July 14, 1912 – October 3, 1967) was an American singer-songwriter and folk musician whose musical legacy includes hundreds of political, traditional and children's songs, ballads and improvised works. He frequently performed with the slogan This Machine Kills Fascists displayed on his guitar. His best-known song is "This Land Is Your Land." Many of his recorded songs are archived in the Library of Congress. Such songwriters as Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs, Bruce Springsteen, John Mellencamp, Pete Seeger, Joe Strummer, Billy Bragg, Jeff Tweedy and Tom Paxton have acknowledged Guthrie as a major influence. more »

Year:

2012

2:46

65 Views

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It was late last night when the boss come home
He's askin' about his lady
The only answer he received, "She's gone with the
Gypsy Davy, gone with the gypsy Davy"

"Go saddle for me my buskin' horse
And a hundred dollars saddle
Point out to me their wagon tracks
And after them I'll travel, after them I'll ride"

Well, I had not rode 'til the midnight moon
When I saw the campfire gleaming
I heard the notes of the big guitar
And the voice of the gypsy singin'

That song of the gypsy Dave
There in the light of the camping fire
I saw her fair face beaming
Her heart in tune with the big guitar

And the voice of the gypsy singing
That song of the gypsy Dave
Have you forsaken your house and home
Have you forsaken your baby

Have you forsaken your husband dear
To go to the gypsy Davy
And sing with the gypsy Dave
That song of the gypsy Dave

Yes, I've forsaken my husband dear
To go with the gypsy Davy
And I've forsaken my mansion high
But not my blue-eyed baby
Not my blue-eyed babe

She smiled to leave her husband dear
And go with the Gypsy Davy
But the tears come a-trickling down her cheeks
To think of the blue-eyed baby
Pretty little blue-eyed babe

Take off, take off your buckskin gloves
Made of Spanish leather
Give to me your lily-white hair
And we'll ride home together
We'll ride home again

No, I won't take off my buckskin gloves
They're made of Spanish leather
I'll go my way from day to day
And sing with the Gypsy Davy
That song of the Gypsy Davy
That song of the Gypsy Davy
That song of the Gypsy Dave

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