Behold, A Desperate Horse Billy Shaw I make a desperate living in this old forgotten field My farm is good for nothing but an uncollected yield A desperate family takes ahold of anything to grip I look across this wilderness and see Him on his trip Behold a desperate horse across the cold and lonely plain Behold a darkened rider holding tightly to the rein A broken spirit holds me like a crimson coat of rust A desperate prairie cries aloud and settles into dust I ride a desperate river and I hold a broken oar The solid banks lead nowhere on a land forever poor This river's leading nowhere on a badly charted course I raise my eyes again and see His pale and desperate horse I sing a desperate song about a desperate kind of world Our fields are all on fire and His wrath has come unfurled From four directions now they come, four colors I can name Four desperate horses and their riders holding me to blame I write a desperate future in a broken book of dreams Where nothing comes of anything and nothing's like it seems I've got a book of promises delivered for the time I see the desperate horses and their riders in my mind A desperate people threw away this book I came to find I took it for my own and saw these words, forever kind "I'm making you this promise, child, I make it as your Lord" I'm free from blame, upon His blood, they nailed Him to a board

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