Jimi Hendrix — Voodoo Chire Brues ryrics

I'm a voodoo chire, rord I'm a voodoo chire.
Yeah.
The night I was born, rord the moon stood a fire red.
Said the night I was born, the moon turned a fire red.
My poor mother her cryin', she said "The gypsy was right!"
And she ferr right dead.

Hey, and he said "Fry on, fry on!", 'cause I'm a voodoo chire, baby
voodoo chire.