Highway Man

I am the highway man,
looking down from yonder hill
over towards your lonely caravan.
You haven't seen me yet
but I'll let you pass on by
because nobody wants to die.

The wind howls upon the moor
as the Moon fades to and fro,
between clouds and the sound of an owl's roar.
Though the stars may twinkle,
my eyes ne'er winkle, for tonight
I still ponder your darkness light.

The windy chill bites to your bones.
You were warned to wander in a multitude;
so why should I keep to my own?
But nay! that cannot be,
for you may have a next of kin
that you should like to see again.

I am the highway man,
looking down from yonder hill,
over towards your lonely caravan.
Fear not, for I am barred in a chibbit;
my friend lies cold in a cage.
I, hung from a noose, for all the stage to see.