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Crossroads seem to come and go, yeah |
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The gypsy flies from coast to coast |
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Knowing many, loving none |
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Bearing sorrow having fun |
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But back home he'll always run |
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To sweet Melissa |
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Mm..... |
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Freight train, each car looks the same, all the same |
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And no one knows the gypsy's name |
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No one hears his lonely sigh |
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There are no blankets where he lies |
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In all his deepest dreams the gypsy flies |
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With sweet Melissa |
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Mm..... |
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Again the morning's come |
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Again he's on the run |
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Sunbeams shining through his hair |
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Appearing not to have a care |
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Well pick up your gear and gypsy roll on |
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Roll on |
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Crossroads, will you ever let him go? |
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Will you hide the dead man's ghost |
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Or will he lie, beneath the clay |
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Or will his spirit roll away? |
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But I know that he won't stay |
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Without Melissa |
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Yes I know that he won't stay |
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Without Melissa |
