In a quaint caravan
There's a lady they call The Gypsy
She can look in the future
And drive away all your fears
Everything [bad word] right
If you only believe The Gypsy
She could tell at a glance
That my heart was so full of tears
She looked at my hand and told me
My lover was always [bad word] And yet in my heart I knew, dear
Somebody else was kissing you
But I'll go there again
'Cause I want to believe The Gypsy
That my lover is [bad word] And [bad word] back to me some day