Lyrics The Road to Guysborough - The Stanfields

The Road to Guysborough

I was headed back home on the Merland Road
With my head in the clouds one night
Taking each step with the beat of my heart
Guided by the pale moonlight
I was whistling along with the loons on the lake
And thinking ‘bout making my plan
Next thing you know, I’m suckin' on the knuckles
Of a swindling highwayman
Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol
I’ll take what I can
No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again
He had a Colt 45 a-swingin' on his hip
And a blackjack in his hand
He had a bucktooth grin, a great big chin
A limp and a silk armband
He said, «Fella don’t you know there’s trouble in the woods
and the trouble in the woods is I?
Gimmie your gold, gimmie your liquor.
I’ll think about letting you by.»
Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol
I’ll take what I can
No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again
Well I hit him with the left and the right, alright
With fists like cannonballs
He turned on a dime and he ran with a shriek
That echoed off the Intervale walls
I ain’t proud of what I did, but I did what I did
‘cause I couldn’t miss my chance
to take Hopey for a spin on the sawdust floor
at Favaro’s wedding dance
Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol
I’ll take what I can
No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again
Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol
I’ll take what I can
No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again