on my way

this gypsy
that can't claim
a father or a mother
they were known once
to themselves
and a few others
all that gone now
I will be remembered
a line here
a word there
the color of pants
they put on me
the part in my hair
that was never there
they have their fancies
that will live on
but no one will ever ask
and that one will never tell
about the night
that lasted for years
and the day that finally came
and I missed it
that's the way I lived