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.