Dick Turpin, Dick Turpin, what ridest thou so fast?
By one set of horseshoes, for one day theyll last
To take me to London from York in a night
And back the same day - with the wind I do ride.
I see a black-clad highwayman a-speeding down the hill
Hes looking for the London coach, hes waiting for a kill
And though he shows his face, hes seen in York the other day,
And though they know he did it, with his crime hell get away.
His name it is Dick Turpin and his horse, shes called Black Bess
He is the vilest highwayman to give the world distress.
And none knows how he did it save one man who will not tell:
Hes the man who forged the horseshoes to make Bess go swift as hell.
O blacksmith, o blacksmith, why namest thou thy price?
Ive paid for your work, and I will not pay twice.
O youve paid for the iron as youll pay for your crime
But now you must pay me for stealing some time
I see a black-clad highwayman a-speeding through the night
Hes left a few survivors who will now live on in fright
He is a laughing villain, poor mens hero he will be
But his laughter hides a secret that no man is bound to see.
He had a friend and partner, and his name it was Tom King
And all along the London Road sheer terror they would bring.
Till Tom he got arrested when Dick was nowhere round
And Epping forest they did search but Dick could not be found.
Dick Turpin, Dick Turpin, I wont take your soul.
I took from your past and left one day a hole
Ive taken the day they arrested your friend
So you could not free him and he met his end.
I see a black-clad highwayman a-speeding through the gate
The sun is bound to setting, and hes almost running late.
He spent twelve hours riding, and he rode two hundred miles,
And whilst dismounting his brave horse, he waves his hat and smiles.
It was not that much later that Dick Turpin met his end
When at Yorks hanging ground atop the ladder he did stand.
He chatted with the hangmen, then unaided he jumped down
And took with him the secret how he rode to London town.
O Blacksmith, o blacksmith, well both go to hell
But youll be forgotten and my tale theyll tell
O curst be that good man that I could not save
But he bought me a secret Ill take to my grave.
Text und Melodie © 2005 by Thesilée tune and lyrics © 2005 by Thesilée