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 will always be around

I fly a starship across the Universe divide and when I reach the other side
I will 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 will be back again