On that hill a centaur stands, half stallion, half man,
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and his hoofs are the hoofs of a stallion,,
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and his strength, it's the strength of a stallion,
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and his pride, the pride of a stallion.
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But his tears are the tears of a man.
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Over the hill the centaur goes,
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round the mountain and back again,
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Not a quite reaching his World of dreams,
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and just beyond the world of a man.
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Once the centaur loved a mare who rode beside him everywhere,
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(They were) racing, chasing cross the fields,
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(the) centaur and the wild mare.
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But with the racing and chasing done,
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they stood silent and silent there.
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But the centaur, he had words to say.
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(But) the mare had only the soul of a mare.
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Over the hill he rode on,
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round the mountain and back again,
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Not a quite reaching his World of dreams,
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and just beyond the world of a man.
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Once the centaur loved a girl who saw his golden aspiration.
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(They were) walking, whispering through the woods,
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the centaur and the lovely girl.
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But with the walking and whispering done,
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they stood silent, and then they cried.
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For the centaur felt the stirring breeze,
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He needed someone who could ride by his side.
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Over the hill, climbing the mountain and back again,
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Not a quite reaching his World of dreams,
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and still beyond the world of a man.
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| On that hill a centaur stands. |