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, With the sea I did abide. I sailed a schooner around the Horn of Mexico, I went aloft to furl 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 a 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 hill that knows no sound, But I am still around, I'll always be around, And around, and around, and around, and around. I'll fly a starship across the universe divine, 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, I'll be back again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.