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the morning's bright, the road is long
we ride all night to the dawn
and as we ride, we sing our song
ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay
and we sing of days not long ago
our fathers buried down below
ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay
the trees are green, they shimmy to the breeze
they are dancing like us Gypsies
without two feet, two knees
so, I say: "My dear brothers, rise up and take a bow
to that big brother in the sky, with which always lookin' down, lookin' down"
that's why we fled over hills, away from the meadows
his strange arms thicker than syrup
ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay
so, raise your voices on high
the cry of the gypsies as they sing
ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay
so let us move out from the pious
and raise our glasses up out high
no, she worships mother moon, a great pearl in the sky
she looks down at us in the light
as we dance like sadists who own the night, own the night
while there's happiness and rejoicing, can't stay for very long
for another day is soon approaching and we, we will vanish with the dawn
like the leaves blowing in the wind, our wagon
our wagon, our wagon will carry on, carry on
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