When a horse is on his knee
Don't shoot him till he stands
One so proud, a final plea
Is his to stay your hands
Will you drag him when he's dead
Should you tear his flesh and mane
Leave him there to shed
His glory in the rain
For when the clouds have risen
His figure leaves his voice
Painted in the prison
Of life without a choice
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
When a horse is on his knee
Don't shoot him till he stands
One so proud, a final plea
Is his to stay your hands
Will you drag him when he's dead
Should you tear his flesh and mane
Leave him there to shed
His glory in the rain
For when the clouds have risen
His figure leaves his voice
Painted in the prison
Of life without a choice
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