In spring they cast their feathers,
I've been told
But all the radicals
Are growing old.
At night things cast no shadow
That's a lie.
Like all the things that mother tells
It's hard to get by
Now open your eyes, sweet prince
Oh, you've been lost ever since
That day
One hand on the holster
At all times
Oh my lonely rider
(they won't grant you your luck)
And open your eyes,
Sweet prince
Just know that you've been loved
Ever since.
No,
(you know you don't need
Their flak)
Just throw all that weight
Off your back
And go home
Writer(s): Norman Petty, Sunny West, Bill Tilghman
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