A sweltering, mangy grey coat
Was his armor for the day
On the wind swept plains
Born from his dark mind

There was no course set
Nothing scrawled on his maps
His chorus begged him to “go”
Over the crest and beyond

In his woolen grey shield
In the brisk wake of spring
Before a mid-April shower
Could drench his resolve

Over the crest and beyond
To breathe deep,
At long last