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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