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The speculators made their money on the blood you shed
Your mommaīs pulled the sheets up off your bed
Profiteers on Jhames Street sold your shoes and clothes
Ainīt nobody talkinī because everybody knows
We pulled your cycle up back the garage and polished up the chrome*
Our gypsy biker coming home
Sister Mary sits with your colors, but Johnnyīs drunk and gone
This old townīs been rousted, which side you on?
They would march up over the hill, this old fools parade
Shouting victory for the righteous for you must hear the grace
Ainīt nobody talkinī, but just waiting on the phone
Gypsy biker coming home
Whoa!
[Guitar solo]
We rode into the foothills, Bobby brought the gasoline
We stood around the circle as she lit up the ravine
The spring hot desert wind rushed down on us all the way back home
[Harmonica bridge]
To the dead, well it donīt matter much ībout whoīs wrong or right
You asked me that question, I didnīt get it right
You slipped into your darkness, now all that remains
Is my love for you brother, lifeīs still unchanged
To him that threw you away, you ainīt nothing but gone
My gypsy bikerīs coming home
And now Iīm out countinī white lines
Countinī white lines and getting stoned
My gypsy bikerīs coming home
Whoa!
[Guitar solo]
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la
[fades]