Текст песни The Road to Guysborough (The Stanfields) с переводом

I was headed back home on the Merland Road

With my head in the clouds one night

Taking each step with the beat of my heart

Guided by the pale moonlight

I was whistling along with the loons on the lake

And thinking ‘bout making my plan

Next thing you know, I’m suckin' on the knuckles

Of a swindling highwayman

Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol

I’ll take what I can

No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again

He had a Colt 45 a-swingin' on his hip

And a blackjack in his hand

He had a bucktooth grin, a great big chin

A limp and a silk armband

He said, «Fella don’t you know there’s trouble in the woods

and the trouble in the woods is I?

Gimmie your gold, gimmie your liquor.

I’ll think about letting you by.»

Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol

I’ll take what I can

No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again

Well I hit him with the left and the right, alright

With fists like cannonballs

He turned on a dime and he ran with a shriek

That echoed off the Intervale walls

I ain’t proud of what I did, but I did what I did

‘cause I couldn’t miss my chance

to take Hopey for a spin on the sawdust floor

at Favaro’s wedding dance

Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol

I’ll take what I can

No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again

Well I’ll take my rifle, take my pistol

I’ll take what I can

No, I’ll never walk the road to Guysborough alone again

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