PATRICK
As sung by Mike Beck on "Mariposa Wind"

My name is Patrick,
And I live in the mountains
Outside Salinas,
Way up in the sky.

My name is Patrick,
And the man who rides me,
He feels what I feel;
He thinks what I think;
His touch goes down to my feet.

My name is Patrick,
And it's easy to run,
And I can stop on four feet,
And no cow can get by me.

And I'm straight up in the bridle,
And my reins and reata,
They're braided by the man
I allow on my back,
Whose touch goes down to my feet.

Back in '57,
The bridle class in Salinas,
The great horses were there,
And the men who rode 'em, too.

And I chased the wild cow,
And I turned her on the fence,
And the people all cheered,
And they all looked at me.

'Cause my name is Patrick,
And I live in the mountains
Outside Salinas,
Way up in the sky.

My name is Patrick,
And the man who rides me,
He feels what I feel;
He thinks what I think,
And his touch goes down to my feet.

When I'm turned out in the golden hills,
I eat the sweetest grass
That grows under the oak trees
Where the fog drifts to the ground.

Now my name is Patrick,
And I sleep on the ridges
Where the wind off the ocean
Brings the scent of manzanita
And it blows through my mane.


[Reputedly written about a horse belonging to Bill Dorrance, one of the original "horse whisperers."]