First Bright Horses

The bright horses have broken fields from the fields
They are horses of love, their manes full of fire
They are parting the cities, those bright, burning horses
And everyone is hiding, and no one makes a sound in a while

For all the wide windows of wonder are jammed
And the bright horses of love galloping down
And all you've gotta do, and all you've gotta do
Is at your command
And all you've gotta do, and all you've gotta do
Is at your command