On the Edge of Common Sense

Another white horse just rode by. I guess I saw him comin’

I felt him breathin’ down my neck, I heard his hoofbeats drummin’.

I’ve seen ’em’ pass this way before. They mark the separation

Of mossy horns from yearlin’ bucks. Each one’s a generation.

I saw one pass at seventeen, at thirty-five and fifty

They rode by loud and brave and bold or snuck by sly and shifty.

They had no time to stop and tal...