A composition based on my poem titled “Warhorse”… I like it—what about you?
The poem was adapted to reflect the local (Chicago) accent to some extent…
I’m packing my bags, catching that midnight train, my steed
Yeah, I’m leaving this town, my noble steed…
Children should be jumping, dancing in this open field
But there’s nothing left but corpses under this iron shield
My eyes are so heavy, so tired of the vultures’ greed
I’m cutting out tonight… come hit the road with me, my steed
Listen to my whisper, I’m speaking the language we need
My sweet baby’s singing somewhere, but I lost her tune
They say a green valley’s waiting right past that lonely moon
But I’m staring at the dark, don’t know what’s across that bridge
Your eyes are so beautiful, my faithful steed
Got that smoky sorrow, that opium-heavy gaze
Your silent words bleed through this window-pane haze
And the rain… oh, the rain just won’t stop crying on the street
I hold the mirror sideways, catching your lonely face
The wind blows through your mane, losing its steady pace
I rest my heavy head right down upon your neck
We talk in a silent language, standing on a burning deck
Some fool calls it crazy, some jive-talker laughs at the view…
Oh, my silent warhorse, they stole the words from you
I was standing unarmed, no weapon in my hand
But they dragged me down, yeah they dragged me…
Straight into this killer’s band.
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