The Men Who Don’t Fit In There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still;So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will.They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest;Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest. If they just went straight they might go far; They are strong and brave and true;But they’re always tired of the things that are, And they want the strange and new.They say: “Could I find my proper groove, What a deep mark I would make!”So…