| Tell me when you see them
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| Gathered at the shore
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| Dancing on their broken chains
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| Ah, the ladies are no more
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| In their blue jeans and their necklaces
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| Against an evening sky
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| But some of them are weeping
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| Crying rider, please pass by
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| The ship with all the riders
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| Has drifted out to sea
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| Compass cracked and stars unnamed
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| It’s lost to history
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| And the riders in captivity
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| Watch ancient waves roll high
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| And hear the distant voices
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| Crying rider, please pass by
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| All you men who should have been
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| Your fathers beat you down
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| Your mothers loved you badly
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| Your teachers stole your crowns
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| And the wars you fought have taken toll
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| The price was far too high
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| You’ve buried all the images
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| Of riders passing by
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| The horses of the riders
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| Have waited at the tide
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| But years have passed, they know at last
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| Their heroes will not ride
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| So the women oh so gracefully
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| Mount noble horses high
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| Shattering the timelessness
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| Of rider, please pass by
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| But who can dare to judge us
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| The women or the men?
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| If freedom’s wings shall not be clipped
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| We all can love again
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| So the choice is not of etiquette
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| Or finding lonesome ways to die
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| But liberty to ships at sea
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| And riders passing by
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| But liberty to ships at sea
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| And riders passing by |