Drinking with Gypsies

I believe I may be a gypsy…I was always quite fond of leaving town…I usually love a bit too deeply…see it’s you whom I really don’t want to love, but it’s also you who decides to sit cross-legged at my campfire…and you just smile at how I embrace my old painted mug…you call me cunning…so I say goodnight. Oh, I like to fall asleep in my skirts.