Pale Rider - Field Report

There’s a pale horse outside my door

In my dream, where my Dream Horse usually goes

It told me its name;

it’s the same as yours

I’ve been so worried about you

Because there’s something inside you been clouding your head

Like a mother, and expecting to be soon again

But the thing inside you is not your kin;

It’s a ghost you let keep haunting

I don’t know that I can be your place to go, or what you need

Now the next thing I know, I’m on your back

With a suitcase full of the wrong things packed

We’re out looking for your family but doubling back

To every bar we chose to pass on

Now you’re cantering crooked and screaming at the wind

And shooting off flare guns in memory of the kid

His birthday was yesterday;

he would have been six

Oh my god, I am so sorry

I don’t know that I can be your place to go, or what you need