Tracks mark the snow
Not a car on the road
Sullen moon is hanging low
Over sleeping pastures
Post-disaster
What could it be
That scared the mares and morgans
When all seven of them
Rushed the frozen pond
A cold quiet town
With no witnesses around
Haunted by that fateful night
When all the horses drowned
With a crack of the ice
The fray of hooves and neighing
The desperate plea of beasts
Who roamed too far from home
And the hopes of a girl
Unaware of the accident
Dashed
When her parents told her
That the one they promised her
Had fallen victim to this wicked world
Tune out the clash
Of broken silence
Cover your ears
To the death and the violence
You can try to deny everything
But they were still finding bodies
Well into the spring
Families rest their heads
On beds made of cotton
Stolen foundations
Are withered and rotten
While we wait to be devoured
By the horsemen
Delivered to the grave
In the cradle we were born in
The time of heeding warning
Has passed
We looked death in the face
And we laughed
Now the ice
Has been breaking
And the plague
Has been taking
You better hope
The next horrid flood
Is the last
In a clamoring world
Full of fear
May the bastards
Breathe faster
And say their prayers
Gnawing on each other's throats
To steal the final gasp of air