I'm a highwayman

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..

well, maybe an hour, playing it, and Poncho and Lefty over and over again. We have a tape called "Americana" that is just excellent with all the Big Classic Country songs on it (Think Tennessee Flat Top Box) and we've gone through four of them! :hi:

Livin' on the road my friend, is gonna keep you free and clean
And now you wear your skin like iron, and your breath is hard as kerosene
Weren't you mamma's only boy-oy, her favourite one it seems
She began to cry when you said, good-bye, sank to your dream

Poncho was a bandit boy, his horse was fast as polished steel
He wore his gun outside his pants, for all the honest world to feel
Poncho met his match, you know, on the deserts down in Mexico
Nobody heard his dyin' word, but that's the way it goes

All the Federales, they say
They could have had him any day
They only let him slip a-away
Out of kindness I suppose

Lefty he can't sing the blues, all night long like he used to
The dust that Poncho bit down south, ended up in Lefty's mouth
The day they lay poor Poncho low, Lefty split for Ohio
Where he got the bread to go, there ain't nobody knows

All the Federales they say-ay
We could have had him any day
We only let him slip a-away
Out of kindness I suppose

The poets tell how Poncho fe-ell, and Lefty's livin' in cheap hote-els
The desert's quiet, Cleveland's cold, and so the story ends we're told
Poncho needs your prayers, it's true, save a few for Lefty too
He only did what he had to do, and now he's growin' old

All the Federales, they say
We could have had him any day
They only let him go so-o long
Out of kindness I suppose

A few grey Federales, they say-ay-ay
We could have had him any day
We only let him go so-o long
Out of kindness I suppose

:hi:
Good to see you this morning!

:hi: