| Rosettes are pinned on the wardrobe
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| Certificates hang by the door
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| It’s horses and horses and horses again
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| That’s all she seems to live for
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| Then comes the day
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| She’ll put them away
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| Hide herself secretly
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| In a diary with a lock and a key
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| She’s galloping, galloping over the plain
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| The young girls are galloping, galloping again
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| Holding their horses and reigning them back
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| Handling stallions with bridle and tack
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| It’ll help them to handle the men in their lives
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| Horses will teach them to ride
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| Horses will teach them to ride
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| Four legs are sold for four wheels
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| No more Sunday afternoon chills
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| Instead of outside in the cold and the damp
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| She’s indoors finding new thrills
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| And she knows what it meant
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| By a three day event
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| And life is one long hunter trial
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| And she’ll challenge it all with a smile
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| She’s galloping, galloping over the plain
|
| The young girls are galloping, galloping again
|
| Horses for courses they’re spurring them on
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| Gentling geldings to ride to the hounds
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| It’ll help them to handle the men in their lives
|
| Horses will teach them to ride
|
| Horses will teach them to ride
|
| Galloping, galloping, galloping, … |