I was a highwayman, along the coach roads I did ride,

With sword and pistol by my side.

Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade.

Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade.

The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five:

But I am still alive.



I was a sailor, I was born upon the tide.

And with the sea I did abide.

I sailed a schooner round the Horn to Mexico.

I went aloft and furled the mainsail in a blow.

And when the yards broke off, they said that I got killed:

But I am living still.



I was a dam builder across the river deep and wide;

Where steel and water did collide.

A place called Boulder on the wild Colorado,

I slipped and fell into the wet concrete below.

They buried me in that great tomb that knows no sound:

But I am still around.

I'll always be around,.

And around and around and around and around.



I fly a starship across the Universe divide.

And when I reach the other side,

I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can.

Perhaps I may become a highwayman again.

Or I may simply be a single drop of rain;

But I will remain.

And I'll be back again,



And again and again and again and again.