The Highway man he rode and rode and rode,
The Highway man he rode and he showed his true identity.
He wore a Victorian themed torso and breeches of brown doe skin,
His face was lathered in fabric looking thick but really thin,
He was as quiet as a mouse on his own,
But with his horse he was as loud as an elephant,
He held a pistol in his hand,
And when he saw his love his face burned like a brand,
True love is all he’s wanted,
But Tim the ostler haunted,
haunted,
haunted,
Tim the ostler haunted them until his last breath.
* evil cackle *`