Rolls of thunder
Match brazen plunders
As hands exchange coins of gold.
Stolen no doubt
By a knife or a pout
From the girl whose eyes burn bold.
The fires roar
As tales of yore
Are whispered around the flames.
The gypsies dance
To songs of romance
Beneath a moon in wane.
And there she stands
With a globe in her hands
Will your fate be good or bad?
Ask if you dare
And see how you'll fare
If you don't, you may go mad.
The fortune sings
Tells all of the things
Within your future she sees
And all this I find
As I take my good time
Drinking this first sip of tea.
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