Oh, my heart is filled with shame
But I cannot take the blame
For Gypsy blood that flows like a seasoned wine,
And the memories will bring Subtle melodies that sing Forever in this wanton heart of mine. Yes, they call me to go Where the bushland breezes blow:
Adventure calls and yet I sit and pine.
Oh, the road that winds ahead Softly calls and I am led. It calls and cries and yearns to be explored,
And the boat that leaves the quay Never fails to call me To countries far that I could ill afford,
Or a steam train passing through
Shrilly shrieks as though it knew
This heart of mine was clambering aboard.