Verse 1: 
     Bm 
	The painted lantern circus 
                 F# 
	With the wagons swinging slowly 
             Bm  
	On a cold October morning 
              F#  
	On a day that should be holy 
         G  
	Winding through the forest 
                D 
	As the sun is just a-breakin' 
            G   
	And i am only seven 
               D 
	And a gypsy in the makin' 
 
 
Verse 2: 
        Bm 
	Winds a-blowin' through me 
                 F# 
	And the canvas flaps a-tearin' 
                 Bm 
	And the folks is talkin' low now 
                 F# 
	'Cause they don't want me to hear 'em 
            G 
	And Uncle says there's trouble 
                  D 
	With the bulls along the border 
             G 
	And i'm a-wond'rin' why 
               D             Bm    
	And a-wishin' i were older 
 
 
Verse 3: 
     Bm 
	Many years ago it seems 
             F#  
	And many summers ending 
            Bm 
	The wagon wheels is rustin' 
                F# 
	And the axles is a-bendin' 
              G 
	And Grandma's bones is bleachin' 
                 D 
	And our hearts is still a-dyin' 
             G 
	But i'm a Gypsy Boy 
                  D 
	And there ain't no time for cryin' 
 
 
Verse 4: 
         Bm 
	Now it's getting colder 
	        F# 
	And the air is growin' ugly 
                Bm  
	And the wolves is gettin' bolder 
             F# 
	And there ain't no sun above me 
                G 
	And i think it's time to move now 
               D 
	But i don't know where we're goin' 
                G 
	And i know it won't be long now 
           D                  Bm  
	Before it starts to snowin' 
 
 
Verse 5: 
     Bm 
	Babies cryin' softly 
                 F#  
	And the women are a-sighin' 
             Bm 
	And somewhere in a wagon 
                   F# 
	There's a soul that must be dyin' 
                     G  
	'Cause the crepe is hangin' black 
                  D 
	From the window of each lorry 
                   G 
	And we'll likely camp at sunset 
                  D    
	So's the body can be buried 
 
 
Verse 6: 
         Bm  
	So the carts will rumble 
                 F# 
	Though there ain't no road to travel 
               Bm 
	And i listen to the grindin' 
                F# 
	Of the wooden wheels on gravel 
                 G 
	And the sad songs and the old songs 
              D 
	Will warm me and they'll hold me 
                 G 
	'Til my head at last grows weary 
                D             
	And the arms of sleep enfold me 
              G 
	For i am a Gypsy Boy 
                D                 
	And my home is where you find me 
              G 
	For i am a Gypsy Boy 
                D                 Bm 
	And my home is where you find me