| It was late last night when the boss came home | 
| Askin' for his lady | 
| The only answer that he got | 
| «She's gone with the Gypsy Davey | 
| She’s gone with the Gypsy Dave.» | 
| Go saddle for me a buckskin horse | 
| And a hundred dollar saddle | 
| Point out to me their wagon tracks | 
| And after them I’ll travel | 
| After them I’ll ride | 
| Well I had not rode to the midnight moon | 
| When I saw the campfire gleaming | 
| I heard the notes of the big guitar | 
| And the voice of the gypsies singing | 
| That song of the Gypsy Dave | 
| There in the light of the camping fire | 
| I saw her fair face beaming | 
| Her heart in tune with the big guitar | 
| And the voice of the gypsies singing | 
| That song of the Gypsy Dave | 
| Have you forsaken your house and home? | 
| Have you forsaken your baby? | 
| Have you forsaken your husband dear | 
| To go with the Gypsy Davy? | 
| And sing with the Gypsy Davy? | 
| The song of the Gypsy Dave? | 
| Yes I’ve forsaken my husband dear | 
| To go with the Gypsy Davy | 
| And I’ve forsaken my mansion high | 
| But not my blue-eyed baby | 
| Not my blue-eyed baby | 
| She smiled to leave her husband dear | 
| And go with the Gypsy Davy; | 
| But the tears come a-trickling down her cheeks | 
| To think of the blue-eyed baby | 
| Pretty little blue-eyed baby | 
| Take off, take off your buckskin gloves | 
| Made of Spanish leather; | 
| Give to me your lily-white hair | 
| And we’ll ride home together | 
| We’ll ride home again | 
| No, I won’t take off my buckskin gloves | 
| They’re made of Spanish leather | 
| I’ll go my way from day to day | 
| And sing with the Gypsy Davy | 
| That song of the Gypsy Davy | 
| That song of the Gypsy Davy | 
| That song of the Gypsy Dave |