Gypsy Biker - Bruce Springsteen

The speculators made their money on the blood you shed

Your momma’s pulled the sheets up off your bed

Profiteers on Jhames Street sold your shoes and clothes

Ain’t nobody talkin’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 Johnny’s drunk and gone

This old town’s 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

Ain’t nobody talkin', but just waiting on the phone

Gypsy biker coming home

Whoa!

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

To the dead, well it don’t matter much 'bout who’s wrong or right

You asked me that question, I didn’t get it right

You slipped into your darkness, now all that remains

Is my love for you brother, life’s still unchanged

To him that threw you away, you ain’t nothing but gone

My gypsy biker’s coming home

And now I’m out countin’white lines

Countin’white lines and getting stoned

My gypsy biker’s coming home

Whoa!

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