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Text z Príbehu
The moon was a goshtly galleon, The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor.
Bess the landlord's black-eyed daughther.
Tim the Ostler listened, his eyes were a hallow of madness but he loved the landlord's daughter
king George's men came marching and marching to the old inn door.
Bess the landlord's black-eyed daughter was tied to her bed. waiting for the highwayman to trotte up the road.
The tip of her finger touched the trigger. Oh how she wanted to save her love who was riding to the old inn door.
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