Through the woodland, through the valley Comes a horseman wild and free Tilting at the windmills passing Who can the brave young horseman be? He is wild but he is mellow He is strong but he is weak He is cruel but he is gentle He is wise but he is meek
Reaching for his saddle bag he takes a battered book into his hand Standing like a prophet fool he shouts across the ocean to the shore ‘Til he can shout no more
I have come among the mountain Like the hawk upon a wing I was once the shining knight Who was the guardian of a king
I have searched the whole world over Looking for a place to sleep I have seen the strong survive And I have seen the lean grow weak
See the children of the earth who wake to find the table there See the Gentry in the country riding off to take the air
Reaching for his saddle bag he takes a rusty sword into his hand Then striking up a knightly pose he shouts across the ocean to the shore ‘Til he can shout no more
See the jailer with his key who locks away all trace of sin See the judge upon the bench who tries the case as best he can See the wise and wicked ones who feed upon life’s sacred fire See the soldier with his gun who must be dead to be admired See the man who tips the needle see the man who buys and sells See the man who puts the collar on the ones who dare not tell See the drunkard in the tavern standing fool cant make ends meet See the youth in ghetto black condemned to life upon the street
Reaching for his saddle bag he takes a tarnished cross into his hand Then standing like a preacher now he shouts across the ocean to the shore Then in a blaze of tangled haze hooves he gallops off across the dusty plain In vain to search again will no one will hear
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Copy to Clipboard: Through the woodland, through the valley Comes a horseman wild and free Tilting at the windmills passing Who can the brave young horseman be? He is wild but he is mellow He is strong but he is weak He is cruel but he is gentle He is wise but he is meek
Reaching for his saddle bag he takes a battered book into his hand Standing like a prophet fool he shouts across the ocean to the shore ‘Til he can shout no more
I have come among the mountain Like the hawk upon a wing I was once the shining knight Who was the guardian of a king
I have searched the whole world over Looking for a place to sleep I have seen the strong survive And I have seen the lean grow weak
See the children of the earth who wake to find the table there See the Gentry in the country riding off to take the air
Reaching for his saddle bag he takes a rusty sword into his hand Then striking up a knightly pose he shouts across the ocean to the shore ‘Til he can shout no more
See the jailer with his key who locks away all trace of sin See the judge upon the bench who tries the case as best he can See the wise and wicked ones who feed upon life’s sacred fire See the soldier with his gun who must be dead to be admired See the man who tips the needle see the man who buys and sells See the man who puts the collar on the ones who dare not tell See the drunkard in the tavern standing fool cant make ends meet See the youth in ghetto black condemned to life upon the street
Reaching for his saddle bag he takes a tarnished cross into his hand Then standing like a preacher now he shouts across the ocean to the shore Then in a blaze of tangled haze hooves he gallops off across the dusty plain In vain to search again will no one will hear
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