The Highwayman lyrics

The wind was a torrent of darkness

Among the gusty trees

The moon was a ghostly galleon

Tossed upon cloudy seas

The road was a ribbon of moonlight

Over the purple moor

And the highwayman came riding -

Riding - riding -

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead

A bunch of lace at his chin

A coat of the claret velvet

And breeches of brown doe-skin

They fitted with never a wrinkle.

His boots were up to the thigh

And he rode with a jewelled twinkle

His pistol butts a-twinkle

His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky