(Verse)
The wind was a torrent of silver that night,
Moon riding high on the line.
A ribbon of road through the purple-dark moor,
Where the old inn stands out of time.
He whistled a tune through his teeth in the dark,
Boots soft on the cold stone floor.
Bess stood waiting with fire in her hair,
By the light of the stable door.
(Pre-Chorus)
Eyes like a warning, lips like a flame,
She said, “Be gone ‘fore the dawn”.
But love’s a chain and the night called his name,
And the highway pulled him on.
(Chorus)
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Ride till the morning breaks.
Spur to the wind, heart in your hand,
For love and freedom’s sake.
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Through shadow, steel, and fire.
If the road takes your blood tonight,
Let your ghost ride higher.
(Verse)
He laughed like a king in the moonlit dust,
Coins in his black-gloved hand.
French cocked hat low, rapier bright,
A legend across the land.
But redcoats crept with their iron grips,
And a whisper of treachery near.
They tied her up and they broke her heart,
With a musket at her ear.
(Pre-Chorus)
She heard his hooves on the ribbon of road,
Like thunder breaking free.
And love chose pain over silence and fear,
For the man she’d never leave.
(Chorus)
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Ride though the night’s a lie.
The road’s gone cold, the trap is set,
But love won’t let you die.
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Hear her heartbeat cry.
One shot rings out in the pouring dark,
So you don’t ride into goodbye.
(Bridge)
She pulled that trigger with tears in her eyes,
As the world stood still in flame.
Blood ran slow like a crimson vow,
Etched deep in love’s true name.
He fell with the dawn on his lips that morn,
By the old inn’s broken gate.
Two hearts buried in the same sad song,
At the edge of fate.
(Chorus)
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Ride though the night’s a lie.
The road’s gone cold, the trap is set,
But love won’t let you die.
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Hear her heartbeat cry.
One shot rings out in the pouring dark,
So you don’t ride into goodbye.
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Ride past death and pain.
When the moon burns low and the road calls back,
You’ll ride that road again.
Ride, ride, highwayman,
Still heard on the moor at night.
A ghost on the wind with a lover’s cry,
Riding forever in light.
Outro
When the wind is a torrent of silver still,
And the moon hangs cold and wide.
They say love rides on a phantom horse,
Where the highway meets the sky.
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