Rose was a gypsy who lived upon the moor,
she used to sell clothes pegs knocking door to door.
Sometimes on a bad day with little in her purse,
if anyone refused her she’d mutter a gypsy’s curse.
When the easter fair came around Rosie suitably veiled,
armed with a crystal ball and whatever else it entailed.
She’d sit and tell their fortunes while more waited outside,
she’d gaze into her crystal ball as all logic she defied.
She’d repeat the self same mantra time and time again,
“you’ll meet a tall rich stranger,you’ll never work again”
Rose was far from psychic whatever time of day,
she’d hang out her washing when rain was on the way.
Rose was her “stage” name no matter what folks say,
her real name was Bridie she came from Gallway bay.
If you have your fortune told as one day you just may,
watch when she hangs the washing out what more can I say