Horse were once wild,
They are innocent like a child,
Unspoiled by the human hands,
They graze on the free lands...
Between the trees they will hide,
For no men ever to ride,
One of the free ones,
No men will ever ride as fast, as he runs...
The wind will forever whisper his name,
And give him endless fame,
He’s the fastest horse of them all,
He’s the horse that will save the rest from their fall...
His free mane and tail,
He, who’s rememberd only in a tale,
He’s the stallion who was meant to lead,
He’s the one that no men will ever meet...
They graze on the empty plain,
All of them without a name,
You can call them: wind, thunder or lighting...
Cause they all share the same fate: They’re fighting.
Horse where all once wild,
They still are,
Only they have moved to a place very far,
Horse are still wild, cause...
What once was, can still be
In a horse we borrow freedom,
But it’s only meant for some,
The wind whispers his name,
And gives nameless fame...