Fiery nostrils flaring, sniffing for danger
the mustang checks throughout his kingdom
he can smell something, a stranger
eyes glinting he heads for freedom

He stands in silhouette at the top of the hill
and screams his defiance for all to hear
the men gathered for the round up thrill
to see him standing there without peer

The mustang whirls and from sight he flees
mane flapping, tail streaming what a picture
the men follow but its like they are on donkeys
they pull up and watch him go in rapture

For yet another day maybe much more
he's free to roam where he desires
he heads off to pastures new on the moor
leaving men to dream around their campfires