Crossroads, seem to come and go, yeah.The gypsy flies from coast to coastKnowing many, loving none,Bearing sorrow h
avin' fun,But back home he'll always runTo sweet Melissa... mmm...Freight train, each car looks the same, all the same.And
no one knows the Gypsy's nameNo one hears his lonely sigh,There are no blankets where he lies.In all his deepest dreams th
e Gypsy flieswith 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? (Lor
d, Lord)Will you hide the dead man's ghost,Or will he lie, beneath the clay,or will his spirit roll away?But I know that h
e won't stay without Melissa.Yes I know that he won't stay without Melissa.