Chris De Burgh

In from the coast, riding like the wind and racing the moon,
Shadows on the road, dancing and a-weaving like a crazy fool.
A horseman is coming, death in his heart, for a rendezvous,
And where the traveller goes, nobody knows,
Where the traveller goes, nobody knows....
A candle in the night, fear on every face when he goes inside,
Maybe he's on the run,
Get back from the bar, a stranger in town is a dangerous sight,
Maybe he's got a gun,
Bring a bottle of whisky landlord, I want to talk for a while,
And where the traveller goes, a cold wind blows,
Where the traveller goes, a cold wind blows,
There is something in his eyes, something in his hands,
You can almost smell his revenge,
And whoever he is after, it will be disaster,