Stephen Charles Alaimo
Crossroads, seem to come and go, yeah
The gypsy flies from coast to coast
Knowing many, loving none
Bearing sorrow, having fun
But, back home he'll always run to sweet Melissa
Freight train, each car looks the same, all the same
And no one knows the gypsy's man
And no one hears his lonely sighs
There are no blankets where he lies
Lord, in his deepest dreams the gypsy flies with sweet Melissa
Again, the morning's come
Again, he's on the run
A sunbeam's shining through his hair
Fear 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?
Or 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
Lord, Lord, it's all the same