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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 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 Again the mornings come Again he's on the run

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