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There are horses in the atmosphere
Running free and wild, springing, falling,
Following the trail of the white horse.
The child divine sings to them
Whistling the wind into shooting stars.
Our warm scarves will protect us
From the night and northern light,
Emanating from the child divine.
We wandered smoky forests so late at night
And saw a blaze of dreams on the other side
Where the valley burned, glowing like a thousand fluorescent light bulbs
All life hung from a cradle, the white horse ran swift with the breathing embers
Falling to her place in the sky
There she is alive as the child divine.
Running free and wild, springing, falling,
Following the trail of the white horse.
The child divine sings to them
Whistling the wind into shooting stars.
Our warm scarves will protect us
From the night and northern light,
Emanating from the child divine.
We wandered smoky forests so late at night
And saw a blaze of dreams on the other side
Where the valley burned, glowing like a thousand fluorescent light bulbs
All life hung from a cradle, the white horse ran swift with the breathing embers
Falling to her place in the sky
There she is alive as the child divine.
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