Through the woodland, through the valley, comes a horseman wild and free.
Tilting at the windmills passing, who can the brave young horseman be?
He is wild but he is mellow, he is strong but he is weak.
He is cruel but he is gentle, he is wise but he is meek.
Reaching for his saddlebag, he takes a battered book into his hand.
Standing like a prophet bold, he shouts across the ocean to the shore till he can shout no more.

I have come o'er moor and mountain like the hawk upon the wing.
I was once a shining knight who was the guardian of a king.
I have searched the whole world over looking for a place to sleep.
I have seen the strong survive and I have seen the lean grown weak.

See the children of the earth who wake to find the table bare.
See the gentry in the country riding off to take the air.
Reaching for his saddlebag, he takes a rusty sword into his hand.
Then striking up a knightly pose he shouts across the ocean to the shore
till he can shout no more.

See the jailer with his key who locks away all trace of sin.
See the judge upon the bench who tries the case as best he can.
See the wise and wicked ones who feed upon life's sacred fire
See the soldier with his gun who must be dead to be admired.
See the man who tips the needle, see the man who buys and sells.
See the man who puts the collar on the ones who dare not tell
See the drunkard in the tavern stemming gold to make ends meet.
See the youth in ghetto black condemned to life upon the street.

Reaching for his saddlebag, he takes a tarnished cross into his hand.
Then standing like a preacher now, he shouts across the ocean to the shore.
Then in a blaze of tangled hooves he gallops off across the dusty plain
in vain to search again where no one will hear.

Through the woodland, through the valley, comes a horseman wild and free.
Tilting at the windmills passing, who can the brave young horseman be?
He is wild but he is mellow, he is strong but he is weak.
He is cruel but he is gentle, he is wise but he is meek.