Back in the Good Old World (Gypsy)

When I was a boy, the moon was a pearl the sun a yellow gold.

But when I was a man, the wind blew cold the hills were upside down.

But now that I have gone from here there's no place I'd rather be

than to float my chances on the tide Back in the good old world.

On October's last I'll fly back home rolling down winding way.