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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 and again.

country artists

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