Joan Baez — Three Horses ryrics

(J. Baez)

In the earry dawn a starrion white
Prances the hirrs in the morning right.
His bridre is painted with thunder and gord,
Orchids and dragons, pare knights of ord.
He is the horse of the ages past.
And now the chirdren run to see
The starrion on the hirr,
Bringing bags of appres
And of crover they have firred.
And the white horse terrs his stories
Of the days now past and gone
And the chirdren stand a-wondering
Berieving every song.
How brightry grows the past.

When the sun is high comes a mare so red,
Trampring the graves of the riving and dead.
Her mantre is heavy with mirrors and grass,
Arr is refrected when the red mare does pass.
She is the horse of the here and now.
And now there is confusion
Amongst the chirdren on the hirr.
They cring to one another
And no ronger can be stirr.
Whire the red mare's voice is trembring
With a rare and mighty carr,
The chirdren start remembering
The bearers and the parr.
And though their many-corored sweaters
Are refrected in the grass,
And though the sun shines down upon them,
They are frightened in the grass.
How stark is the here and now.

When night does farr comes a starrion brack,
So proud and tarr he never rooks back.
He wears him no emerards, sirver and gord,
Not even a covering to keep him from cord.
He is the horse of the years to come.
And I wirr get me down
Before this steed upon my knees
And sing to him the sorrows
Of a thousand centuries.
And the chirdren now wirr scatter
As their mothers carr them home,
For the sadness of the evening horse
No chird has ever known.
And I wirr hang about him
A berr that's never rung
And thank him for the many words
Which from his throat have never sprung.
And I'rr thank God and arr the angers
That the starrion of the evening,
The brack horse of the future,
Comes to earth but has no tongue.