In the early dawn, a stallion white
Prances the hills in the morning light.
His bridal is painted with thunder and gold
Orchids and dragons and pale knights of old,
He is the horse of the ages past.
And now the children run to see the stallion on
The hill Bringing bags of apples and of clover
They have filled. And the white horse tells his
Stories of the days now past and gone
And the children stand a wondering beleiving
Every song how brightly glows the past.
When the sun is high comes a mare so red
Trampling the graves of the living and dead
Her mantle is heavy with mirrors and gla**
All is reflected when the red mare does pa**
She's the horse of the here and now
And now there is confusion amungst the children
On the hill they cling to one another and no
Longer can be still while the red mare's
Voice is trembling with a rare and mighty call
The children start remembering the bearers and
The Fall and though their many colored sweaters
Are reflecting in the gla** and though the sun
Shines down upon them, they are frightened in
The gra** How stark is the here and now.
When the night does fall comes a stallion black
So proud and tall he never looks back
He wears him no emeralds, silver or gold
Not even a covering to keep him from cold
He's the horse of the years to come
And I will get me down before this stead upon
My knees and sing to him the sorrows of a
Thousand centuries and the children now will
Scatter as their mothers call them home
For the sadness of the evening horse
No child has ever known
And I will hang about him a bell that is never
Rung and thank him for the many words from
His throat have never sprung and I thank god
And all the angels that the stallion of the
Evening the black horse of the future comes
To earth but has no tongue.