Each painful day in service i feel more as if I've failed
I'm a clandestine Clydesdale with a story to tell
My heart pumps mightily and in utter bitterness
Against demons fighting me I spit at repentance
Chuckle at the life sentence bestowed from the heavens
Without a single thought of benevolence or fairness
I am the creature bred to endure hardships grave allure
Plagued by a disease I cannot stave off or cure
This damned stubborn nature that won’t grow fainter
It only aches greater as the days grow plainer
I stampede forward hoping tomorrow will live up to promise
Each wild place I roam is void of freedom or bliss
Thus goes life without a master or blinders to guide you
A Hell where sun shines blisteringly there’s no shade to hide you
No saint to confide to, no sugar cubes or oats
To replenish the galloping life force who is finding it hard to cope
But I am the creature bred to endure
The four-legged Atlas carrying a wicked world – so impure
And unworthy of leading a beast such as I
Unwittingly at ease as toward oblivion we ride
They don’t acknowledge my pain or my will to confide
My displeasure measured daily against aspirations
Knowing I’ll be discarded upon the eve of innovation
Knowing fully they’ll be rid of me once I’ve fulfilled their needs
Am I beast? No I am a man and inside my weary heart beats
The Hooves of a bottled, raging Steed