Whatever Is Your Pleasure
Across the rolling Irish hills, he rode for Dublin-town
The highwayman, the highwayman
Upon his head, a tricorn hat, upon his face a frown
The highwayman, the highwayman, riding through the night
Up to the city gates he rode, and reined his horse to halt
The jet black mare, the jet black mare
Without the gates, that noble beast, without a flaw or fault
The jet black mare, the jet black mare, reared in fearsome fright
For there upon the stony ground, all unexpectedly
A fearsome sight, a fearsome sight
A maiden lay there, all unclothed, quite nakedly, so nakedly
A fearsome sight, a fearsome sight, think upon her plight!
The highwayman dismounted then and knelt beside the lass
A swelling urge, a swelling urge
Most valiantly he fought his lust and prayed it soon would pass
A swelling urge, a swelling urge, that bravely did he fight
He used his cloak to cover her, then raised her head. She sighed
A craving sigh, a craving sigh
She saw his brave yet wounded soul; her love she tried to hide
A craving sigh, a craving sigh, she knew that it was right
She sat behind him on the steed and clutched him 'round the waist
The rushing wind, the rushing wind
She felt a burning in her veins although she was quite chaste
The rushing wind, the rushing wind, it blew with force and might
Across the rolling Irish hills, they rode from Dublin-town
The pounding hooves, the pounding hooves
If you would know the rest, my boys, 'twill cost you half-a-crown
A princely sum, a princely sum, no chance 'cos I'm too tight.
| Contributors: | N, F, Beefy, Big Andy, K8, snood, Padfoot. |
| Poem finished: | 9th December 2003 by Anon.. |