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.