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I was a highwayman along the coach roads I did ride |
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With the sword and pistol by my side |
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Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade |
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Many a soldier shed his life blood on my blade |
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The bastards hung me in the spring of '25 |
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But I am still alive |
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I was a sailor, I was born upon the tide |
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And with the sea I did abide |
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I sailed a schooner 'round the horn to Mexico |
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I went aloft to furl the mainsail in a blow |
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And when the yards broke off they say that I got killed |
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But I am living still, perhaps I'll always, I don't know |
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I was a dam builder across the river deep and wide |
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Where steel and water did collide |
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A place called Boulder on the wild Colorado |
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I slipped and fell into the wet concrete below |
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They buried me in that great tomb that knows no sound |
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But I am still around, seems like it all goes 'round and 'round and 'round |
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And 'round and 'round yes it goes when here we go |
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I'll fly a starship across the universe divide |
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And when I reach the other side |
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I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can |
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Perhaps I may become a highwayman again |
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Or I may simply be a single drop of rain |
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But I will remain and I'll be back again |
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Yes, I will when here we go but I'll be back again |
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Yes, I will when here we go but I'll be back again |
