When I was a young man,
I burned my tools.
Now I have no chairs to sit on.
When I was a young man
I razed my fields,
Now I have no fruit to s** on.
They say I am a sick old man
See my sick old frame
Smell my d**h as I pa** by you.
My sick old wife
She ends her life
Waiting at the old front door
Women offer wisdom that
She never had,
Never had,
Never had before.
Oh what can I feed you smelly bag?
When kids turn so gravy oh
Tonight I'll sleep in the cold open field
In the arms of the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh
Ragged ragged rats all about our door,
She's gone with the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh
When I was a young lad,
I ground my nines,
Now I have no friends to call on
When I was a young man,
I cracked my eyes,
Now I have sharp gla** to crawl on.
Oh the days of wealth and knees,
When I had dark oil for burning.
Oh I was a young man with my golden pipe,
And now I am too sick for learning.
And I will blame the wanderer,
I will blame the poor,
I will blame the ragged man
A-knockin' at my door
I'll blame his wife and ragged children
Crying at my feet
And send them into yarl's wood
My vengence there
Vengence there
Vengence there to eat
Oh what can I find use for a bag,
When kids turn so gravy oh,
Tonight I'll sleep in the cold open field
In the arms of the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh
Come with the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh.
Come with the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh.
Come with the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh.
She's gone with the raggle-taggle gypsies-oh.