Crossroads,nThey seem to come and go, yeahnThe gypsy flies from coast to coastnnKnowing many, loving nonenBearing sorrow, having funnBut back home he'll always runnTo sweet MelissannFreight trainnEach car looks the same, yeahnAnd noone knows the gypsy's namennNoone hears his lonely sighnThere are no blankets where he liesnIn all his deepest dreams the gypsy fliesnWith sweet MelissannAgain the morning's comenAgain he's on the runnSunbeam shining through his hairnAppearing not to carennPick up your gear,nGypsy roll onnRoll onnnCrossroadsnWill you ever let him go?nLord, lordnWill you hide the dead man's ghost?nnOr will he lie beneath the clay?nOr will his spirit float away?nnBut I know he won't staynWithout MelissannYes, I know he won't staynWithout Melissa