I dream of horses, Wild and Free. 

I feel the herd that surrounds me. 

Like thunder are there hoof beats, Like lightning are there
eyes, 

the storm never dies. 

A gunshot sounds, a rustler makes his rounds. 

Being caught, the stallion fights for all his life. 

His fear cuts through him like a barbed knife. 

He breaks from the rope, again free to run, once again, his
Herd is one.