The Real Meaning Behind The Highwomen Highwomen Lyrics

The Real Meaning Behind The Highwomen Highwomen Lyrics

The first time you hear it, it feels like a ghost story. But it isn't. Not really. When Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires stepped into the studio to record "Highwomen," they weren't just making a cover. They were performing an act of historical reclamation. If you’ve spent any time dissecting The Highwomen Highwomen lyrics, you know it’s a direct response to "The Highwayman," the 1985 classic by the country supergroup of the same name—Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, and Kris Kristofferson.

But here is the thing: the original song was about men who died doing "manly" things. Smuggling. Sailing. Building dams. Being a pilot. The Highwomen looked at that legacy and realized the female version of that story wasn't about adventure. It was about survival, sacrifice, and the quiet ways women are erased from history.

Honestly, it’s a heavy song. It’s supposed to be.

Why the lyrics hit different than the original

Jimmy Webb wrote the original "Highwayman" after a dream, and it’s a masterpiece of reincarnation and cyclical fate. However, when Brandi Carlile and Amanda Shires sat down with the legendary Jimmy Webb to rewrite it, they didn't just swap "he" for "she." They changed the stakes.

The original highwayman was a criminal. He died on the gallows. The Highwomen’s first character? She’s a "Highwoman." She’s a mother. She’s a refugee.

"I was a Highwoman, and a mother from the start / I had a family and a garden in my heart."

These opening lines set a completely different tone. You’ve got a woman trying to get her children across a border—a "soft border" in the lyrics—and she doesn't make it. She dies of thirst. It’s a gut-punch because it feels so modern and so ancient at the same time. While Cash sang about robbing coaches, Carlile sings about the desperation of a mother. It’s a shift from outlaw bravado to the visceral reality of female peril.

Breaking down the four characters

Most people listen to the song and realize there are four distinct verses, each representing a different archetype of womanhood throughout history. They aren't just random stories. They are archetypes of how society has historically punished women for seeking freedom or simply existing.

The Refugee (Brandi Carlile)

This verse is arguably the most politically charged, though it stays grounded in human emotion. She carries her children across the "sands of Honduras." It’s a story of migration and the physical toll of trying to find a better life. She dies "at the hands of the law," which is a stark, haunting mirror to the original highwayman dying by the hangman’s knot. But she wasn't a criminal. She was a parent.

The "Witch" (Amanda Shires)

Then we move to 1692. Salem. Or maybe just any place where a woman knew too much about the earth. Shires sings about being a healer who "lowered many a fever."

Think about that for a second.

In the 17th century, if you were a woman who knew which herbs cured a cough, you were a threat. The lyrics say, "They hung me from the tree of help." It’s a play on words that hurts. She was helping, and for that, she was executed. It captures that specific historical fear of female knowledge.

The Freedom Rider (Natalie Hemby)

This is where the song enters the American Civil Rights movement. Hemby’s character is a woman on a bus in 1961. She’s headed to Mississippi.

She isn't a famous name like Rosa Parks or Diane Nash, but she represents the countless women who sat on those buses, faced the mobs, and disappeared into the struggle. "I died for the truth," she sings. It moves the song from the mystical and the ancient into the concrete reality of American history. It reminds us that progress is paid for in blood, often by people whose names never make the textbooks.

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The Preacher (Maren Morris)

The final verse is perhaps the most defiant. Morris sings about a woman with a "prophet's spirit" who was told she couldn't speak in the church.

"I told them that I saw the face of God," she sings.

For many listeners in the country music sphere—a world often dominated by traditional religious structures—this verse is radical. It’s about the spiritual silencing of women. She’s told she’s a "heretic" just for claiming a direct connection to the divine.

The deeper meaning of the chorus

The chorus is where the "Highwomen" concept really gels. It’s about the "ghosts" that are still among us.

"We are the Highwomen / Coming from the light, we’re coming from the dark."

It’s a beautiful, haunting harmony. When all four voices blend, it feels like a wall of sound. They are saying that even though these women were "broken" or "hanged" or "silenced," they didn't actually go away. They are still here in the stories of modern women.

It’s a reclamation of the term "Highman." To be "high" in this context isn't about status. It’s about being elevated by sacrifice. It’s about the "high road."

Why this song matters in the 2020s

You can’t talk about The Highwomen Highwomen lyrics without talking about the "Tomato-gate" controversy in country radio. Back in 2015, a radio consultant named Keith Hill famously said that if you want ratings, you have to take women off the air. He called men the "lettuce" and women the "tomatoes" of the salad.

The Highwomen were a direct middle finger to that idea.

By taking a song by the most famous male supergroup in history and rewriting it from a female perspective, they weren't just making music. They were making a point. They were saying, "Our stories are just as epic. Our deaths are just as tragic. Our ghosts are just as loud."

The song is essentially a manifesto.

The technical mastery of the recording

Dave Cobb produced this track, and he kept it sparse. You hear the acoustic guitar, the steady, driving beat that feels like a horse galloping or a bus rolling down a highway. It doesn't need a massive orchestra. The power is in the voices.

One thing you might miss on the first listen: the bridge. The way the song modulates creates a sense of endlessness. Just like the original song, it suggests that these souls keep coming back.

  • The Refugee returns as a dreamer.
  • The Witch returns as a doctor.
  • The Freedom Rider returns as an activist.
  • The Preacher returns as a leader.

It’s about the persistence of the female spirit. It’s actually pretty hopeful, despite all the dying in the verses.

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Common misconceptions about the lyrics

Some people think the song is a literal cover. It’s not. While the melody and the "Highwayman" structure remain, every single word of the verses is new.

Another misconception is that it’s a "man-hating" song. Honestly, it’s anything but. It’s an "addition" to the narrative. It doesn't say the Highwaymen were wrong; it says they only told half the story. It invites the listener to consider what was happening to the women while the men were out being outlaws.

While the men were "sailing a schooner," the women were holding families together, dying in childbirth, or fighting for the right to speak.

How to use these insights

If you're a musician or a songwriter, there’s a massive lesson here in how to reference the past without being a slave to it. The Highwomen used a familiar "hook" to smuggle in some really difficult, necessary truths.

Next time you listen, pay attention to the order of the singers.

  1. Brandi leads because she’s the anchor of the group.
  2. Amanda brings the "weird," ethereal vibe for the witch verse.
  3. Natalie brings the soul and the grit for the civil rights verse.
  4. Maren brings the contemporary powerhouse vocals to close it out.

It’s a perfect structure.

To truly appreciate the The Highwomen Highwomen lyrics, you should listen to the original Highwayman song immediately followed by this version. Notice the difference in the "why." The men die for adventure or fate. The women die for others. It’s a subtle distinction that changes the entire weight of the song.

For those looking to dive deeper into the history of these archetypes, look into the stories of the Freedom Riders of 1961 or the history of the "curandera" (healers) in Latin American culture. The lyrics are a gateway to a much larger history of female resilience that often goes unrecorded.

Listen to the breath between the lines. The silence is where the real story lives.


Next Steps for Deep Listening:

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  • Listen for the "Third Voice": When the four women harmonize in the final chorus, try to pick out the individual textures. They aren't trying to sound like one voice; they are trying to sound like a collective.
  • Compare the "Hangman" imagery: Note how the original song treats the gallows as a point of honor, while the Highwomen treat it as a systemic failure.
  • Track the Reincarnation: Identify how each character's "return" in the final chorus mirrors a modern-day profession or struggle.

The song is a legacy piece. It’s designed to be sung by your daughters and their daughters. It’s a way of making sure these "Highwomen" never actually die.