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, no one makes a sound in the wild

For all the wide windows of wonder are jammed

And the bright horses of love are galloping down

And all you've got to do

And all you've got to do is at your command

And all you've got to do

And all you've got to do is at your command