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