Текст песни Melissa - Gregg Allman
                                                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.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Mmmm-hmmm.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Freight 
                                                train, 
                                                each 
                                                car 
                                                looks 
                                                the 
                                                same, 
                                                all 
                                                the 
                                                same.
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                no 
                                                one 
                                                knows 
                                                the 
                                                gypsy's 
                                                name,
 
                                    
                                
                                                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.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Mmmm-hmmm.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Again, 
                                                the 
                                                mornin′s 
                                                come.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Again, 
                                                he's 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                run.
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                sunbeam's 
                                                shinin 
                                                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, 
                                                yeah,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Without 
                                                Melissa.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lord, 
                                                Lord, 
                                                it′s 
                                                all 
                                                the 
                                                same.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Mmmmm-hmmmmm.
 
                                    
                                 
                            
                                Альбом
                                
Lonely Day In L.A. (Complete KMET-FM Broadcast From 6th November 1974)                                
                                
                                    
                         дата релиза
 11-05-2020
                            1 Intro
2 Commercial with Guitar
3 Come & Go Blues
4 Midnight Rider
5 Win, Lose or Draw
6 Catfish Blues
7 Commercial Break
8 Melissa
9 Multi-coloured Lady
10 Outro
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