Mama's talkin' loud, Mama's doin' fine Mama's gettin' hot, Mama's goin' strong Mama's movin' on, Mama's all alone Mama doesn't care, Mama's lettin' loose Mama's
Mama's talkin' loud, mama's doin' fine Mama's gettin' hot, mama's goin' stong Mama's movin' on, mama's all alone Mama doesn't care, mama's lettin' loose Mama's
Tradução: Gypsy Soundtrack. Gire a la rosa.
die alone Oh Lucifer,please let me go beyond god's love And run my fingers through her hair Esmeralda Belle,there is a demon inside her who came from hell And he turned
can't close Don't turn around, don't turn around again Don't turn around, your gypsy heart Don't turn around, don't turn around again Don't turn around
: Now, the caravan is on it's way I can hear the merry gypsy play Mama-mama-mama-mama Mama-mama-mama, look at Emma Rose Emma Rose, Emmy Rose She's a-
lady of the night I shall reveal you Turn it up, turn it up, little bit higher, radio Turn it up, that's enough, so you know it's got soul Radio, radio turn
Better days with a girl like you Well I took a piss at fortune's sweet kiss It's like eatin' caviar and dirt And it's a sad funny ending to find yourself
flake of your life And when she got home she was nobody's wife Well, I see you there with a rose in your teeth One more thin gypsy thief Well, I see Jane's
I gave you flowers and you gave me faith We are minds and hearts that move as one Chameleon, warrior, gypsy and brave Turn our eyes to the heart of the
the rise o' the moon When the road was a gypsy's ribbon Looping the purple moor A red-coat troop came marching Marching, marching King George's men
't close Don't turn around, don't turn around again Don't turn around, your gypsy heart Don't turn around, don't turn around again And don't turn around
think about her sometimes in the night I never knew the red rose from the white Torn between the Gypsy and the Rose I was torn between the Gypsy and the Rose
night, I shall reveal you If you would turn it up, turn it up, little bit higher, radio Turn it up, that's enough, so you know, it's got soul Radio, radio, turn
asleep in the doors of the train. See the gypsies dance with their damned old glances, Hear the peddlers cry out their refrain. And who's gonna care, and who's
could see The Flying Doctor's been barking up the wrong tree Cecil B. De Mille lives on my street CY O'Connor's feeling depressed And Gypsy Rose Lee