Bandits walked out on the road,
A wagon was passing by.
A whistle sounds, it got surrounded,
They tied up everyone inside.
But only the brave coachman
Decided to protect his lords.
"I would rather die," he said then,
"But you won't get anything at all!"
The gang leader said "If you want"
And suddenly threw his axe.
It cut the head off
Sliding right through his neck.
It fell on the soft grass
And bandits laughing at that
Took everything they could find,
And dragged this large chest.
Leaving the body in the bushes
They went to celebrate this hunt.
There they set the table
"Well, it's time to divide!"
But the coachman took his head
From the grass colored red.
There's no place on his neck
So he kept it in his hands.
And walking back to his wagon
He left to the darkness under the Moon.
Since then no one have seen him
In this mystery dark wood.
The blow of the whip was heard
And in the distance were quiet hoofbeats.
He drove his wagon to the darknes
On the road where he got killed.