I am scared most of the things in the fall
Of the things I can’t recall
Of the darkness in the hall

And I am homesick for a bed
in which I can no longer lay
Because my feet hang off the end
And I wake to stiff to play

I’m teaching lessons to the horses
In the sunny cloudy fields
Teaching them their choices
Teaching them to feel

I tell little mare Ann Mary
To forgive her brother Jack
Because such a friend he is to her
That she soon will want him back

I show soft and gentle Bluebell
That he must learn to stand up tall
He’s growing sick from all the beatings
He only gets because he’s small

And calloused old buck Rusty
Must stop fighting for his pride
Because under rough and darkened skin
We are all pink and soft inside

And my cats I have nothing to tell them
Because cats they are creatures of habit
They only do what they know will soon please them
Their claws carve a track through the carpet

The grass holds the secrets of seasons
It speaks as the air cuts between it
I hope if show I care for it
It might share all the fears I forgot

Light shines through the clouds like a keyhole
The land is an old sleeping Angel
In the heart of my home lies the answer
But I’d rather talk to the horses.