Wednesday, October 12, 2005


For some reason the song "Highwayman"--the version sung by Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Kris Kristofferson and the Man in Black--had me nearly in tears as I walked to the train this morning:


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 . . .

Damn. I'm getting chills just reading it again right now.


Anonymous Christopher said...

George the Dog wants to know why I'm singing one song in four different voices, and also says that my Kris Kristofferson imitation needs work. I told him it was your fault.

10:51 AM  
Blogger Dave said...

No one does Kristofferson right. He's some sort of trickster figure, I've decided. A scary benefactor.

11:30 AM  
Blogger haddayr said...

I'm supposed to be taking a break from online stuff but when you bring up my dear boy Willie I cannot keep silent.

This song also has always really gotten me, too. Even moreso now.

5:17 PM  
Blogger Dave said...

I think that's why it got to me too, Haddayr. It's strange how often small reminders of what we've lost often hit the hardest.

3:40 PM  

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