| Wise men spoke the vision
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| Of the spirit horses way
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| Like a savior he has a mission
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| From the ashes of the plains
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| All the souls of mighty warriors
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| Are carried in his veins
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| All the hopes of ancient nations
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| Are flowing through his mane
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| And the spirit voices say
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| Never chase a running shadow
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| Underneath the midnight sky
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| Never chase a running shadow
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| You will ride till you die
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| From the badlands of Dakota
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| One lone rider came
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| To catch the restless spirit
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| They said could not be tamed
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| And he laughed at all the legends
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| He called their stories lies
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| He called it superstition
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| Foolish dreams of fading tries
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| And the spirit voices cry
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| Never chase a running shadow
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| Underneath the midnight sky
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| Never chase a running shadow
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| You will ride till you die
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| Over hills and through dark canyons
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| He chased the steel dust grey
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| But he could not catch the stallion
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| He could not break his pace
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| He pursued the racing phantom
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| To the canyons edge
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| But running shadow jumped the chasm
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| Left the outlaw on the ledge
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| And the spirit voices say
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| Never chase a running shadow
|
| Underneath the midnight sky
|
| Never chase a running shadow
|
| You will ride till you die
|
| Never chase a running shadow
|
| You will ride till you die |