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Phil Ochs( Philip David Ochs )
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The Highwayman
The wind was a torrent of darkness
'mong the gusty trees
the moon was a ghostly gallion,
tossed upon cloudy seas
and the road was a ribbon of moonlight
over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding
yes the highwayman came riding
up to the old Inn door
Over the cobbles he clattered
and clashed in the darkened yard
and he tapped with his whip on the window
but all was locked and barred
so he whistled a tune to the window,
Who should be waiting there,
But the landlords black-eyed daughter
Bess the landlords daughter
braiding a dark red love knot
into her long black hair
one kiss my bonny sweetheart
for I'm after prize, tonight
but I shall be back with the yellow gold
before the morning light
yet if they press me sharply
and harry me through they day
oh, then, look for me by moonlight
watch for me by moonlight
and I'll come to thee by moonlight
though hell should bar the way
He did not come at the dawning,
no, he did not come at the noon
and out of the tawny sunset,
before the rise of the moon
when the road was a gypsy's ribbon
looping the purple moor
Oh, a Redcoat troop came marching, marching marching
King George's men came marching
up to the old Inn door
And they bound the landlords daughter
with many a sniggering jest
and they bound the musket beside her
with the barrel beneath her breast
Now, keep good watch And they kissed her
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she heard the dead man say,
'oh, look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight, and I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way'
'look for me by moonlight'
Hoofbeats ringing clear
'watch for me by moonlight'
were they deaf, that they did not hear?
for he rode on the gypsy highway
She breathed one final breath
then her finger moved in the moonlight
her musket shattered the moonlight
and it shattered her breast in the moonlight
and warned him, with her death
Oh, he turned, he spurred on to the west
He did not know who stood
out with her black hair a'flowin' down
drenched with her own red blood,
No, not till the dawn had he heard it,
and his face grew gray to hear
how Bess, the Landlords daughter,
the Landlords black eyed daughter
had watched for her love in the moonlight
and died in the darkness there
Back he spurred, like a madman
shrieking a curse to the sky,
with a white road smoking behind him,
and his rapier brandished high
bloodred were his spurs in the golden moon
wine red his velvet coat
when they shot him down on the highway
down like a dog on the highway
and he lay in his blood on the highway
with a bonshot lace at his throat
And still, of a winter's night, they say,
when the wind is in the trees
and the moon is a ghostly Gallion
tossed upon cloudy seas,
when the road is a ribbon of moonlight,
looping the purple moor
Oh, the highwayman comes riding,
Riding, riding,
yes, the highwayman comes riding
up to the old Inn door
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