I've never had a proper home,
Not one like yours is.
I've nearly always had a caravan
With horses.
And I know you won't believe
me
Though it is the truth to
tell
That the living it is hard,
oh,
But it suits me well.
I am I traveller of the seas,
I am a sailor.
The ocean has been good to
me,
She ain't no jailor.
I can tell a fair old story
which I'm sure ain't no surprise
Of the places I have sailed,
oh,
And they ain't no lies.
I've never had a garden,
Or a place with windows.
I stand upon the salty deck,
And feel the wind blow.
And I know you won't believe
me
Though it is the truth to
tell
That the living it is hard,
oh,
But it suits me well.
My mother was a fire-eater,
'Fore she desert us.
So when I was only seven years
old
I joined the circus.
And I can tell a fair old
story which I'm sure ain't no surprise
Of the places we have played,
oh,
And it ain't no lies.
I've never had no money,
And no hope to get none.
I can always get a penny,
When there is good reason.
And I know you won't believe
me
Though it is the truth to
tell
That the living it is hard,
oh,
But it suits me well.
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |