Love To Hate
He wakes with the dawn,
finds dew still on the grasses.
Feed and water before the sun comes
The list is long with things to do.

Oooh, he stands tall out on the plains
Oooh, he finds mercy in the rain
Never thinks about escape
Oooh, this land is what he loves to hate

When the seasons change
the bitter cold takes his breath away
boredom and confinement make him long
for the hard luck of an August Day

So many have come and gone
from those who lived and loved this land
to those who moved on...