| I turn my car north,
|
| I'm going up the coast
|
| It may take the time it takes,
|
| I follow the inner voice
|
| My thoughts play freely,
|
| I remember back
|
| The pictures will come first,
|
| The horses are tearing themselves apart…
|
| I have Stockholm behind me,
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| I have passed the plain
|
| The trucks are fighting on,
|
| I'm traveling as planned
|
| On the way to a brighter area,
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| Dare I know I'm at home
|
| The car may slip forward,
|
| Behind the dust of the horses…
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| Hare I have stood In a rain,
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| And hitchhiked, what memories
|
| My roots danger nring again,
|
| It sharpens my senses
|
| It evokes her face,
|
| She who lived hare by the sea
|
| Emotions float freely,
|
| I have the steps of the horses
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| I've long been worried,
|
| Crawling behind my back
|
| I'm almost lost my grip,
|
| If they feel like gare,
|
| That I feel safe…
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| I'm approaching the journey goal,
|
| Takes frjan ver lven
|
| I am filled with a quiet calm,
|
| Sees the sea sl towards the mountains
|
| Soon I will walk on the land of my childhood,
|
| Dare my grandfather was my hero
|
| I was Indian and he,
|
| He was the horses that ran
|
| I was Indian and he,
|
| He was the horses that ran…
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free
|
| Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring
|
| Let the horses free |