| I was a highwayman
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| Along the coach roads I did ride
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| With the sword and pistol by my side
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| And many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
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| And many a soldier shed his life blood on my blade
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| They fin’lly hung me in the spring of '25
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| But I am still alive
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| I was a sailor
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| And I was born upon the tide
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| And with the sea I did abide
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| I sailed a schooner 'round the horn of Mexico
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| I went aloft to furl the mainsail in a blow
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| And when the yards broke off they say that I got killed
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| But I am living still
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| I was a dam builder
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| Across the river deep and wide
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| Where steel and water did collide
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| A place called Boulder on the wild Colorado
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| I slipped and fell into the wet concrete below
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| They buried me in that great tomb that knows no sound
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| But I am still around
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| Seems like it all goes 'round and 'round
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| And 'round and 'round
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| I’ll fly a starship
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| Across the universe divide
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| Until I reach the other side
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| I’ll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
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| Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
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| Or I may simply be a single drop of rain
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| But I will remain
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| And I’ll be back again
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| And again, and again, and again |