Lyric It Suits Me Well

My name is Jan the gypsy
I travel the land.
There are no chains about me
I am me own man.
I can tell a fair old story which I m sure ain t no surprise
Of the places I have been, oh,
And they ain t no lies.

I ve never had a proper home,
Not one like yours is.
I ve nearly always had a caravan
With horses.
And I know you won t believe me
Though it is the truth to tell
That the living it is hard, oh,
But it suits me well.

I am I traveller of the seas,
I am a sailor.
The ocean has been good to me,
She ain t no jailor.
I can tell a fair old story which I m sure ain t no surprise
Of the places I have sailed, oh,
And they ain t no lies.

I ve never had a garden,
Or a place with windows.
I stand upon the salty deck,
And feel the wind blow.
And I know you won t believe me
Though it is the truth to tell
That the living it is hard, oh,
But it suits me well.

My mother was a fire-eater,
Fore she desert us.
So when I was only seven years old
I joined the circus.
And I can tell a fair old story which I m sure ain t no surprise
Of the places we have played, oh,
And it ain t no lies.

I ve never had no money,
And no hope to get none.
I can always get a penny,
When there is good reason.
And I know you won t believe me
Though it is the truth to tell
That the living it is hard, oh,
But it suits me well.