Band of horses, dragging me through.

Making me stay on my own two feet, own two shoes. 

Band of horses, can't make them drink.

Water comes from a place that we can't reach.

A place of light, what is this? So desirably bright.

Horses to water. Can't make them drink.

Let them in, kitchen sink. We see a lot, but we don't speak.

A solid arrival,

but always late.

The horses are dying, no water, lost weight.

We need, we need, but we don't speak.

Horses to water. Can't make them drink.

Where do we go, when the light begins to fades?

When we're in the dark and the world is awake?

The horses and I, a team you might say, we go through the night and pray for the rain.