There are those amongst us, a few from the many,
Who are known as the girls that may seem aplenty.
That dream of dreams that stretch beyond that of the bluest skies,
That lust for things that may take a lifetime to arrive.
"You are different", you once told me,
"You dance to a different beat, You dance to a different drum.
You have a mind that's hasn't been sought out nor has it been sowed,
and this makes me wonder why a girl like you is still then, forever alone."
"It's because you're wild," you then answered,
"An untamed spirit that knows no confinement.
You do whatever you want, whatever you please,
and that's why men are afraid to take on this big 'liability'."
"Women like you need to be trained, need to be altered,
Women like you need to accept things as how they've already been destined.
Because there's no place for a woman like you who has visions of 'pipe dreams',
Because don't you know my dear, that this is a world only meant for men like me."
But that's where you're wrong and that's where you're amiss,
Because a bridled soul like you could never understand the bliss.
The privilege one feels from an escape to distant territories nor dreams,
The sweetness one associates from being a wild horse - it's freedom and it's liberty.
We are considered wild for all of our thoughts and for all of our doings,
Everything that opposes society's views of how a girl should be fully.
But remember that we have our own minds and our own opinions,
Beliefs, we view to be important and not up for analyzation.
Because being a wild horse is itself, a beautiful thing,
To have a fire in you burn, with such passion and gleam.
But only a few could see nor understand this spark,
While others may consider this more a flaw than that of an art.
A wild horse should never be broken down nor should it be restrained,
Instead, a wild horse could only be understood by that of another mate.
Someone to run along the open-pastured fields with, basking in it's beauty,
Someone who's dreams and aspirations are those of ideal notability.
Because if all the wild horses are left repressed, are left askew,
Who else would be left to mend this world from embers, ashes and soot?
Who else would be left to reach and procure impossible feats?
Who else but a wild horse with passion, faith and dreams?
You may say that I dance to a different beat, that I dance to a different drum,
But that is what makes us wild horses, different, unique and one.
And if we had to change our views, our opinions and our fantasies,
Know that this world wouldn't last on just broken horses nor crippled visionaries.
Who are known as the girls that may seem aplenty.
That dream of dreams that stretch beyond that of the bluest skies,
That lust for things that may take a lifetime to arrive.
"You are different", you once told me,
"You dance to a different beat, You dance to a different drum.
You have a mind that's hasn't been sought out nor has it been sowed,
and this makes me wonder why a girl like you is still then, forever alone."
"It's because you're wild," you then answered,
"An untamed spirit that knows no confinement.
You do whatever you want, whatever you please,
and that's why men are afraid to take on this big 'liability'."
"Women like you need to be trained, need to be altered,
Women like you need to accept things as how they've already been destined.
Because there's no place for a woman like you who has visions of 'pipe dreams',
Because don't you know my dear, that this is a world only meant for men like me."
But that's where you're wrong and that's where you're amiss,
Because a bridled soul like you could never understand the bliss.
The privilege one feels from an escape to distant territories nor dreams,
The sweetness one associates from being a wild horse - it's freedom and it's liberty.
We are considered wild for all of our thoughts and for all of our doings,
Everything that opposes society's views of how a girl should be fully.
But remember that we have our own minds and our own opinions,
Beliefs, we view to be important and not up for analyzation.
Because being a wild horse is itself, a beautiful thing,
To have a fire in you burn, with such passion and gleam.
But only a few could see nor understand this spark,
While others may consider this more a flaw than that of an art.
A wild horse should never be broken down nor should it be restrained,
Instead, a wild horse could only be understood by that of another mate.
Someone to run along the open-pastured fields with, basking in it's beauty,
Someone who's dreams and aspirations are those of ideal notability.
Because if all the wild horses are left repressed, are left askew,
Who else would be left to mend this world from embers, ashes and soot?
Who else would be left to reach and procure impossible feats?
Who else but a wild horse with passion, faith and dreams?
You may say that I dance to a different beat, that I dance to a different drum,
But that is what makes us wild horses, different, unique and one.
And if we had to change our views, our opinions and our fantasies,
Know that this world wouldn't last on just broken horses nor crippled visionaries.
