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Tina

hands so gentle, eyes so wise
a woman I loved beneath the wild western skies
way out in Duck Valley where the high winds fly
a woman I touched and was taken
and somewhere a wild horse wakens

how I remember the life we made
the eyes of society so afraid
that we might see behind the darkened shade
secrets supposed to be hidden
and somewhere a wild horse listens

and she smiles so reassuringly
across the distant visions of my memory
“you have the eyes, my friend, you can surely see,
don’t let me down”

and she smiles, eternity expanding in her hand
sunrise, moonrise, grains of sand
“comes a time, my friend, we all must make a stand,
don’t let me down”

Tina, pretty woman, indigina red
unraveling confusion’s heavy thread
entering and leaving, the living and the dead
spirit weaver, your love has spoken
and somewhere a wild horse will not be broken
somewhere a wild horse will not be broken