| The bright horses have broken free 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
|
| And I’m by your side and I’m holding your hand
|
| Bright horses of wonder springing from your burning hand
|
| And everyone has a heart and it’s calling for something
|
| We’re all so sick and tired of seeing things as they are
|
| Horses are just horses and their manes aren’t full of fire
|
| The fields are just fields, and there ain’t no Lord
|
| And everyone is hidden, and everyone is cruel
|
| And there’s no shortage of tyrants, and no shortage of fools
|
| And the little white shape dancing at the end of the hall
|
| Is just a wish that time can’t dissolve at all
|
| Oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, well, this world is plain to see
|
| It don’t mean we can’t believe in something, and anyway
|
| My baby’s coming back now on the next train
|
| I can hear the whistle blowing, I can hear the mighty roar
|
| I can hear the horses prancing in the pastures of the Lord
|
| Oh the train is coming, and I’m standing here to see
|
| And it’s bringing my baby right back to me
|
| Well there are some things that are hard to explain
|
| But my baby’s coming home now, on the 5:30 train |