Marc Bolan şarkı sözleri
Gypsy Girl, oh twisty pearlSat upon the stoney pale mareBeltane Eve, by the fires you grieveWith your deep Babylonian hair(chorus)Blessed Wild Apple Girl move along nowBlessed Wild Apple Girl move along nowBlessed Wild Apple GirlGypsy girl, oh twisty girlYour hands are dangled with flowersTangled torn, so stately bornFor a throne in the (hill) halls of Ireland(chorus)Fools have said the hills are deadBut her nose is a rose of the SheeA silver sword by an ancient fordWas my gift from this child of the trees(chorus to end)
