A Fantasy
I was an Arab,
I loved my horse;
Swift as an arrow
He swept the course.
Sweet as a lamb
He came to hand;
He was the flower
Of all the land.
Through lonely nights
I rode afar;
God lit His lights--
Star upon star.
God's in the desert;
His breath the air:
Beautiful desert,
Boundless and bare!
Free as the wild wind,
Light as a foal;
Ah, there is room there
To stretch one's soul.
Far reached my thought,
Scant were my needs:
A few bananas
And lotus seeds.
Sparkling as water
Cool in the shade,
Ibrahim's daughter,
Beautiful maid.
Out of thy Kulleh,
Fairest and first,
Give me to drink
Quencher of thirst.
I am athirst, girl;
Parched with desire,
Love in my bosom
Burns as a fire.
Green thy oasis,
Waving with Palms;
Oh, be no niggard,
Maid, with thy alms.
Kiss me with kisses,
Buds of thy mouth,
Sweeter than Cassia
Fresh from the South.
Bind me with tresses,
Clasp with a curl;
And in caresses
Stifle me, girl.
I was an Arab
Ages ago!
Hence this home-sickness
And all my woe.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Girl From The Wadi Hammamat
Sometimes it seems like a beautiful dream
The girl from the wadi hammamat
Lovely as a green parakeet
I awake alone again
In the desert of my dreams
A fertile oasis I have seen
I cast my voice to the burning winds
Across the dunes khamsin khamsin
Bring her to me on desires wings
On the burning desert wind
She means the world to me
In a single grain of sand
Bring a camel to this man
Perched on a bough her tresses hang down
The girl from the wadi hammamat
She is as sweet as a green parakeet
Sometimes it seems like a beautiful dream
The girl from the wadi hammamat
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Lonely Star
Sometimes I cry about how beautiful you are
Ethereal innocent a lonely star
To be beautiful like you, one can only be alone
Like the moon above where love is flown.
Tears, ineffable tears, for your souls anguish
Flower in the heavens in a star like your soul's languish
I wish I had a soul like you
And through mine own my soul breakthrough
No music is like you, no poetry as beautiful as you
No ocean vast, no land as fertile
No beauty as beautiful as you are
The beautiful lonely star.
This poems for you…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still On My Brain
Beautiful days are long gone
I can't seem to breath
Feels it hasn't been that long
Since you walked away from me
Now I can try to act real strong
But you and I both know I still think of you that way.
You should know...that
Beautiful lights
The star filled nights they don't mean a thing
You are my star so it dont feel r-right without you here with me.
Now I can try to act real strong
But you and I both know it's hard for me to say
You were my soul
Now I could say that I don't love you no more
And I could say that I've closed the door
Of our love
And I could tell you it's time for us to go our separate ways
But baby I just wouldn't be the same
Cause girl your love is still on my brain
Now when you're in love it takes time
When someone has broken your heart and changes how you feel
Girl I thought that you never do me that way
But even after all of this
I still think of you that way.
Now I could say that I don't love you no more
(i could say this
song performed by by Justin Timberlake from Justified
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Star Of Bethlehem
(A.I. Phipps)
Oh beautiful star of Bethlehem
Shining afar through shadows dim
Giving the light for those who long have gone
Guiding the wise men on their way
Unto the place where Jesus lay
Oh beautiful star of Bethlehem, shine on
Oh beautiful star of Bethlehem
(Beautiful, beautiful star)Of Bethlehem
(Star of Bethlehem)
Shine upon us until the glory dawns
Give us the light to light the way
Unto the land of perfect day
Oh beautiful star of Bethlehem, shine on
Oh beautiful star, the hope of life
Guiding the pilgrims through the night
Over the mountains till the break of dawn
Into the light of perfect day
It will give out a lovely ray
Oh beautiful star of Bethlehem, shine on
Oh beautiful star, the hope of rest
For the redeemed, the good and the blest
Yonder in glory when the crown is won
Where Jesus is now the star divine
Brighter and brighter he will shine
Oh beautiful star of Bethlehem, shine on
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Girl Is a Kiss Machine
My girl is kiss machine
Her kiss very sweet
Like a flower in the sun
Which comes here to greet
Every time she meets me
she kisses on my face
and then she guides me
back to those sunny days
when clouds were lieng
at the bottom of my feet
My girl is kiss machine
Her kiss very sweet
She kisses on my cheek
kisses on my fingure tips
She kisses on my chin
kisses with her lucky lips
Every time she kisses
it gets sweeter by a bit
My girl is kiss machine
Her kiss very sweet
Whenever i feel like crieng
she kisses on my eye
Makes all my sorrows none
and I can see them fly
I am always on my toes
wishing that she meets
My girl is kiss machine
Her kiss very sweet
When I say I am leaving
she kisses very hard
And makes it harder for me
to leave her in the yard
Thats why I am saying
She is best thing in my kit
My girl is kiss machine
Her kiss very sweet
poem by Giram Vishal
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The Arab's Farewell To His Horse
MY beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by
With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye;
Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy winged speed-
I may not mount on thee again-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Fret not with that impatient hoof-snuff not the breezy wind-
The further that thou fliest now, so far am I behind;
The stranger hath thy bridle rein-thy master hath his gold-
Fleet-limbed and beautiful! farewell! -thou'rt sold, my steed-thou'rt sold!
Farewell! those free untired limbs, full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry sky, which clouds the stranger's home;
Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare;
The silky mane I braided once, must be another's care!
The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee
Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where we were wont to be:
Evening shall darken on the earth; and o'er the sandy plain
Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me home again.
Yes, thou must go! the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master's home-from all of these, my exiled one must fly.
Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, glancing bright
Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light:
And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed,
Then must I starting wake, to feel-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide,
Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side:
And the rich blood, that is in thee swells, in thy indignant pain,
Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, may count each started vein.
Will they ill-use thee? If I thought-but no, it cannot be-
Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed; so gentle, yet so free.
And yet, if haply when thou'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn-
Can the hand which casts thee from it now, command thee to return?
Return! -alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy master do,
When thou who wert his all of joy, hast vanished from his view?
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gath'ring tears
Thy bright form, for a moment, like the false mirâge appears.
Slow and unmounted will I roam, with weary foot alone,
Where with fleet step, and joyous bound, thou oft hast borne me on;
And, sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think,
'It was here he bowed his glossy neck, when last I saw him drink! '
When last I saw thee drink! -away! the fevered dream is o'er-
I could not live a day, and know, that we should meet no more!
They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong-
They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long.
Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold?
'Tis false-'tis false, my Arab steed! I fling them back their gold!
Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains;
Away! who overtakes us now, shall claim thee for his pains!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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His Gippsland Girl
Now, money was scarce and work was slack
And love to his heart Crept in,
And he rode away on the Northern track
To war with the world and win;
And he vowed by the locket upon his breast
And its treasure, one red gold curl,
To work with with a will in the fartherest West
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
The hot wind blows on the dusty plain
And the red sun burns above,
But he sees her face at his side again,
And he strikes each blow for love.
He toils by the light of one far-off star
For the winning of one white pearl,
And the swinging pick and the driving bar
Strike home for the Gippsland girl.
With an aching wrist and a back that's bent,
With salt sweat blinding eyes,
'Tis little he'd reek if his life were spent
In the winning so grand a prize.
His shear blades flash and over his hand
The folds of the white fleece curl,
And all day long he sticks to his stand
For the love of his Gippsland girl.
When the shearing's done and the shed's cut out
On Barwon and Narran and Bree;
When the shearer mates with the rouseabout
And the Union man with the free;
When the doors of the shanty, open wide,
An uproarious welcome hurl,
He passes by on the other side
For the sake of his gippsland girl.
When summer lay brown on the Western Land
He rode once more to the South,
Athirst for the touch of a lily hand
And the kiss of a rosebud mouth;
And he sang the songs that shorten the way,
And he envied not king or earl,
And he spared not the spur in his dappled grey
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
At the garden gate when the shadows fell
His hopes in the dusk lay dead;
'Nelli? Oh! Surely you heard that Nell
Is married a month' they said.
He spoke no word; with a dull, dumb pain
At his heart, and his brain awhirl
He turned his grey to the North again
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
And he rung the board in a Paroo shed
By the sweat of his aching brow,
But he blued his cheque, for he grimly said,
'There is nothing to live for now.'
And out and away where the big floods start
And the Darling dust-showers swirl,
There's a drunken shearer who broke his heart
Over a Gippsland girl!
William H Ogilvie
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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My Beautiful Girl
Beautiful girl.
Beautiful brown eyes that are like a pond fill with holly water that reflects the blessings from the sun, beautiful girl don’t be so sad and wipe those tears from your beautiful eyes because I’ll be with you tonight.
Let me brush you hair meanwhile you are falling asleep ready to fly into your dreams.
There! I open the doors of the world for you but be careful with the evil that fulfill this lonely empty world.
Don’t look back because you angels will be by your side every day and every night of your beautiful life.
Beautiful girl, beautiful flower that god took from his holy garden to light my life that was so dark and now we can live together forever and ever.
To My daughter.
poem by Christian K. Montiel
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Medjnoon in his Solitude
My ev'ry thought and wish was thine;
Alas! thou know'st too well—
The ties that bind thy soul and mine,
How lasting need I tell.
Oh! I have lov'd thee tenderly—
Too dearly love thee still!
I feel that thought can never die—
That wish no time can kill.
The life that spreads before me now
Is one vast wilderness;
No fairy vales the scene can show
That smile to cheer and bless.
All dreary spreads the frowning waste—
A desert, gloomy, bare;
The rugged path, when found at last,
Leads on but to despair!
No streams, that cool the parching breeze,
Spring in that desert rude;
Save those the fainting Arab sees,
That glitter to delude.
Or if some smiling view display'd
Would tempt my hope again,
I know 'tis but an empty shade,
And sigh to feel it vain!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Image worship
Why mounts my blood to cheek and brow,
Like an ascending flame,
Whene'er from careless lips I hear
The accents of thy name?
Why, when my idle fancy seeks
Some pictured form to trace,
Beneath my pencil still will grow
The features of thy face?
Why comes thy haunting shadow thus
Between the world and me,
To bind my spirit with a charm
That blinds to all but thee?
To bid me watch thine upward course,
Thy path from mine so far;
As earth, 'mid all the hosts of heaven,
Watches the polar star?
Thy cold and polished courtesy,
Each look and tone of thine,
Might well have roused the woman's pride
In duller souls than mine.
They tell me, too, thy heart is light, --
That more than once thou'st loved;
And 'mid all flowers of loveliness
That bee-like thou hast roved.
Why is it, then, while o'er thy heart
There comes no thought of me,
The good, the true, the beautiful,
All speak to me of thee?
Think'st thou 'tis what the world calls love,
Love that return is seeking?
No -- I would scorn a love I sought,
Although my heart were breaking.
It is because within the human heart
There is an altar to an Unknown God,
Who from the gods of this world dwells apart,
And in the Unseen, the Unreal, has his abode.
This disembodied thought the soul pursues,
And seeking in the visible a sign,
She moulds an image, like the apostate Jews,
And sets her idol on the vacant shrine.
Thus worshipped once an Indian maid the sun;
Thus was an Arab boy won by a star;
Thus loved a maid of France the god in stone;
And thus did Numa love a shape of air.
What were the sun, the star, the god, to them,
The fond idolators! thou art to me;
And rapturous as a poet's earliest dream,
Is the sweet worship that I give to thee.
The world around me is so dark and cold,
Life hath for me such draughts of bitter sadness,
Oh, bid me not the mocking Real behold!
Oh, wake me not from this delicious madness!
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Camel
I am like a camel wandering in a harsh and unforgiving desert. The heat manipulates my eyesight. The dunes warp and twirl subtly in front of me. I wonder to myself if whether or not the world has dried up, for I haven't seen water in miles and miles. My tongue lies in my mouth, shriveling like a prune, pitted and lightly bathed in crisped saliva. My spit is thick, coating my gums and teeth as if it were a translucent tar. I am thirsty, walking aimlessly—searching for some sort of lost oasis which may or may not exist. There must be a fresh pool standing alone somewhere; I dream of it in my parched thoughts. My skin burns—golden brown and tanning, cracking similar to the dusty, torrid dirt under my feet. The sun beats down hard on the barren land. I long for softer soil, to feel my toes dig into the porous ground. I wish for an all-encompassing shade to swallow the desiccating heat and the dehydrated swat droplets lining my brow. Where are you my palm tree? Can't you save me from my muscles turning to sand that slips from the sides of my bones? I wander in the harsh and unforgiving desert with only the water I've stored in my body. One day, it will be gone and I may still be looking for you, my lost and beautiful oasis.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Summer Kisses, Winter Tears
(words & music by wise - weisman - lloyd)
Summer kisses, winter tears
That was what she gave to me
Never thought that Id travel all alone
The trail of memories
Happy hours, lonely years
But I guess I cant complain
For I still recall the summer sun
Through all the winter rain
The fire of love, the fire of love
Can burn from afar
And nothing can light the dark of the night
Like a falling star
Summer kisses, winter tears
Like the stars they fade away
Leaving me to spend my lonely nights
With dreams of yesterday
The fire of love, the fire of love
Can burn from afar
And nothing can light the dark of the night
Like a falling star
Summer kisses, winter tears
Like the stars they fade away
Leaving me to spend my lonely nights
With dreams of yesterday
Leaving me to spend my lonely nights
With dreams of yesterday
Summer kisses, winter tears
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Little March Girl
Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart,
There she is passing, the girl of my heart;
See where she walks like a queen in the street,
Weather-defying, calm, placid and sweet.
Tripping along with impetuous grace,
Joy of her life beaming out of her face,
Tresses all truant-like, curl upon curl,
Wind-blown and rosy, my little March girl.
Hint of the violet's delicate bloom,
Hint of the rose's pervading perfume!
How can the wind help from kissing her face,--
Wrapping her round in his stormy embrace?
But still serenely she laughs at his rout,
She is the victor who wins in the bout.
So may life's passions about her soul swirl,
Leaving it placid,--my little March girl.
What self-possession looks out of her eyes!
What are the wild winds, and what are the skies,
Frowning and glooming when, brimming with life,
Cometh the little maid ripe for the strife?
Ah! Wind, and bah! Wind, what might have you now?
What can you do with that innocent brow?
Blow, Wind, and grow, Wind, and eddy and swirl,
But bring her to me, Wind,--my little March girl.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Love Is As Beautiful
Love is as beautiful as a blooming flower
Love is as beautiful as a spring shower
Love is as beautiful as a tall oak tree
Love is as beautiful as the wild sea
Love is as beautiful as a bird in flight
Love is beautiful under God’s moonlight
Love is as beautiful as a star filled sky
Love is as beautiful as the clouds that drift by
Love is as beautiful as virgin sand
Love is two people hand in hand
Love is beautiful so I hope you see
I’m very glad love found you and me
11-25-05/RJH
poem by Ray Hansell
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Wandering the Desert as a Blind Man pts 1&2
I was Blind before you found me
And I couldnt find my way
Its a wonder that i can see
Now, I only hope your hear to stay
There was Darkness all around
Every motion frightened me
What was lost has now been found
And Babe you were the Key
Babe you led me to the Well
I was parched and took a drink
Before I was Blind and couldnt tell
Now, your Light has shown me what to think
The Desert took a hold of me
I was laying down on the floor
Now the Light has set me free
Drinkin all the Water and still wantin more
I dont live where the Water flows
Rivers and Lakes move to the Salty Sea
Couldnt Drink it anymore when I found where it goes
I want to live by an Oasis, Babe can you give it to me
I Wandered Blind through the Dry Wilderness
Trying to find the Sweetest Water i could find
Babe you Stumbled upon me in that emptyness
I was close to Death and you were much to kind
Im Living in a Desert and Thirsty all the time
Dry Sand and Dunes as far as the eye can See
I want to save this Water and make it mine
Babe let me stay, come and set me free
---------------------
Suddenly the lights grew dim
All around me was cast into dark
The well is at bottom when i thought it at the brim
I can see at least, but the pain has left its mark
The water inside has all gone
And nothing for miles theres desert all around
Its getting dark ill have to wait for dawn
In dry wilderness water makes no sound
Shall I rush to where the water flows
And wade in water chest deep
This I know is where everyone goes
But last time I went I was asleep
I was blind and wandered before
Alone and thirsty in the black abyss
I was close to death and lying on the floor
In the desert I had no idea that love exists
I cannot wait for your rains to fall
For the well is there no longer
Alone in the desert i begin to crawl
In the end i hope my soul is stronger
Its not all bad, you tought me how to see
Now alone at least I can find the stream
But still you are the sweetest water, please be with me
Come and talk to me so it doesnt turn into a dream
Please come, and rescue me from my slumber
Again alone I walk in the direction of the river
Hoping im in time, for death is calling out my number
Because alone in the dark, my soul begins to shiver
poem by Jake Andrews
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Beautiful(An Indians Thank You)
She was'nt Native American
but she was one true to the heart
loving all things
the only way she knew how she can
she has a soul that would shine
beautiful as a dandelion
in a field of dreams
flooting in a smoke of clouds
beautiful as all life that flourish
warmed by a summer's kiss
Standing in shadow's of lonely crowds
the Great Spirit walked beside her
there by her side they walked together
guided by the Holy Light
she lite the burning sun
that burned in the sky
she was the color's of every rainbow
blessed like the star's at night
Gentle as a Butterfly
becoming one with the beauty of nature
becoming one with Mother Earth
God guided her since birth
She has a Spirit of the Eagle
like Angel's, she spreads her wing's
soaring high in the heaven's
like a Eagle she would fly
beautiful word's like a bird that sing's
sweeter than a sound of a chime
blowing in the wind
pure as a desert flower that grow's again
Yeah, she's as beautiful
as the moon shining when it's full
keeping peace from falling apart
beautiful as a river that flow's
like The Holy Ghost
that cover's you when it snow's
She roam's free forever more
glittering like the sand
on a ocean shore
beautiful as a pedal
falling from her hand
silent as a willow weeping
like Lion's laying and sleeping
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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When You Strolled Along My Heart.!
When you strolled along
the streets of my heart
the southern breeze-
did it not shower stars in billions
all along your paths?
If alone the seeds of your eyes
to fall upon my heart-
would not my mind all at once
ascend into deep space
to pluck shiny stars
to garland your fairy soul?
In the momentary tremors
at the corners of your eyes
my aeons went tottering in their strides!
The thirst that welled up in my heart
longed deep for the droplets of
your sidelong glance!
My heart that was parched into desert
by the heat of my lust-
would it not dance in ecstasy
erupting into the flowers of love?
In all the land that my darling walked
the horse of my mind
would walk in pride with its head erect!
Does a maid need any language?
Tell me..who could answer her eyes?
**** **** ****
Who told you are a girl?
Must you be called a guillotine
that beheaded my soul
by the sharp blades of your eyes!
Lo..! by my momentary hesitations
my aeons were burnt to ashes!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Juventus Mundi
List a tale a fairy sent us
Fresh from dear Mundi Juventus.
When Love and all the world was young,
And birds conversed as well as sung;
And men still faced this fair creation
With humour, heart, imagination.
Who come hither from Morocco
Every spring on the sirocco?
In russet she, and he in yellow,
Singing ever clear and mellow,
'Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet you, sweet you,
Did he beat you? Did he beat you?'
Phyllopneustes wise folk call them,
But don't know what did befall them,
Why they ever thought of coming
All that way to hear gnats humming,
Why they built not nests but houses,
Like the bumble-bees and mousies.
Nor how little birds got wings,
Nor what 'tis the small cock sings-
How should they know-stupid fogies?
They daren't even believe in bogies.
Once they were a girl and boy,
Each the other's life and joy.
He a Daphnis, she a Chloe,
Only they were brown, not snowy,
Till an Arab found them playing
Far beyond the Atlas straying,
Tied the helpless things together,
Drove them in the burning weather,
In his slave-gang many a league,
Till they dropped from wild fatigue.
Up he caught his whip of hide,
Lashed each soft brown back and side
Till their little brains were burst
With sharp pain, and heat, and thirst,
Over her the poor boy lay,
Tried to keep the blows away,
Till they stiffened into clay,
And the ruffian rode away:
Swooping o'er the tainted ground,
Carrion vultures gathered round,
And the gaunt hyenas ran
Tracking up the caravan.
But-ah, wonder! that was gone
Which they meant to feast upon.
And, for each, a yellow wren,
One a cock, and one a hen,
Sweetly warbling, flitted forth
O'er the desert toward the north.
But a shade of bygone sorrow,
Like a dream upon the morrow,
Round his tiny brainlet clinging,
Sets the wee cock ever singing,
'Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet you, sweet you,
Did he beat you? Did he beat you?'
Vultures croaked, and hopped, and flopped,
But their evening meal was stopped.
And the gaunt hyenas foul
Sat down on their tails to howl.
Northward towards the cool spring weather,
Those two wrens fled on together,
On to England o'er the sea,
Where all folks alike are free.
There they built a cabin, wattled
Like the huts where first they prattled,
Hatched and fed, as safe as may be,
Many a tiny feathered baby.
But in autumn south they go
Past the Straits and Atlas' snow,
Over desert, over mountain,
To the palms beside the fountain,
Where, when once they lived before, he
Told her first the old, old story.
'What do the doves say? Curuck Coo,
You love me and I love you.'
1872.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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I Am The Lost Girl
I am the lost girl
the one of the earth
the one of the north
the one of your birth
I am the lost girl
the one of the air
the one of the east
of the truth laid bare
I am the lost girl
the one of the fire
the one of the south
and everything you desire
I am the lost girl
the one of the water
the one of the west
And I am your daughter
poem by Violet Llewellyn
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The Wild Horse
(r. stewart/a. taylor)
Born and raised
In a motel in new orleans
I ran away
With a hobo and his gypsy friends
We rode a freight train up to cleveland
Across the utah plains
Proud men, troubadours torn and frayed
Sleeping under the stars
While gently strumming guitars
Played the songs of woddy guthrie
And the open road
I knew right then I could never go home
Cause the wild horse runs free forever
Oh yeah, a wild horse runs free forever
And ever and ever
I met a girl
From a family of position and wealth
What a hand
This rambler had been finally dealt
A beauty six years and ten
I felt the walls closing in
Like a swollen river
Bout to overflow
Like a losing gambler I kept on rolling
And a wild horse runs free forever
Yeah yeah yeah
A wild horse runs free forever
The wild horse runs free forever
Yeah yeah yeah
A wild horse runs free forever
Play the guitar
So understand I must go
But Ill drink you one last toast
Oh heres to the heart
And the hands of a man
That come with the dust
And are gone with the wind
May the wild horse run free forever
Yeah the wild horse runs free forever
The wild horse runs free forever
Yeah the wild horse run free forever
Wild guitar, baby, come on, wild
I know, I know, I know, I know
Play it for me, come on.
Yeah, hit it. yeah yeah. let me hear it, yeah.
The wild horse run free ...
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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