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 sigh,
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 roll away?
But I know that he won’t stay without melissa.
Yes I know that he won’t stay without melissa.
~AllmanBrothersI've never listened or attempted to know the words to this song. It was an irritating feature in my life:
Every boyfriend/lover my mom ever played seemed to want to sing this song to me when I was young.
Every boyfriend/admirer/whatever I ever had wasted money in the Juke-boxes for this song to be played at any pub/bar/restaurant I've ever been to.
I've tried to avoid this song most of my life. But today I found the lyrics, in an old memoir belonging to my father (I'm talkin
really old).
What's so eerie/ironic to me about this song is that I was named from this song by my father, and I just realised the "gypsy"
is my father. Always was. From the day I was born he was in and out of my life constantly but he always came back to me.
Something else about this is that the above lyrics are the original lyrics as written by the Allman Brothers, however my father wrote a different closing for the song in place of the original.
...And he will never lie, beneath the clay,
His spirit will sometimes roll away,
But he will return again one day, to Mylissa.
~Marc Tyson