She said she had no money But he was in doubt He told her, 'I used to be in too' But now he was out 'Spare some small change lady And I'll be on my way' She looked into his eyes And deep in his soul I know she was wondering If he was in control She muttered to herself, 'Those beggars, Where do they all come from?' He said, 'I'm not a homeless man I'm a gypsy by trade And I'm travelling this land I'm not a homeless man' He moved through the streets With his headband low Never thinking he would never see That woman again, you know Just sleeping in the doorways And alleys like he always had The years rolled by And later on He spotted an old woman All tattered and worn Hard times had got her Her clothes were ragged and old She said, 'I'm not a homeless woman I'm a gypsy by trade And I'm travelling this land I'm not a homeless woman' Sometime in the daytime Sometimes at night You will see a couple walking They'll come into sight Pushing their carts And holding hands If you ask to help They'll just run away Like little children, out to play And if you ask, 'Who are you' They'll always say 'I'm not a homeless man I'm a gypsy by trade And I'm travelling this land She's not a homeless woman I'm not a homeless man'