Gypsies in the Wood

My mother said I never should

play with the gipsies in the wood.

If I did, then she would say:

“Naughty girl to disobey.

Your hair shan't curl and your shoes won't shine.

You gipsy girl, you won't be mine”.

The wood was dark, the grass was green,

by came Sally with a tambourine.

I went to sea, no ship to get across,

so I paid a shilling for a blind white horse;

I upped on his back and was off in a crack.

Sally tell my mother that I'm never coming back.