In the gloaming, the darkening Morpheus whispers his sweet lullaby Silent prayers are mouthed Send him home safely, I'll be good Three, the loneliest hour For cowards, fools and me Why can't we be Why can't we be Like horses Like horses Gentle and keen From the blood plains, to the high street Where does the boy go, that becomes the man? Inward grieving, outward seething Self deceiving, human Three, the loneliest hour Uncovers the child in us all Why can't we be Why can't we be Like horses Like horses Gentle and keen Horses Horses Horses Gentle, keen