The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #156340   Message #3686642
Posted By: Sandra in Sydney
17-Dec-14 - 06:52 PM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: ballad paying homage to horses??
Subject: Lyr Add: THE HORSE RACE (John Warner)
part of the trilogy - Horses of the World by John Warner - from his CD The Sea & The Soil. John's CDS are available from his website

THE HORSE RACE – GOLDEN SLIPPER TWO-YEAR OLD STAKES
(John Warner © 1991)

In behind the gate she stood and held her concentration tight
A boxer gloved and ready for the fight behind the iron gate
Grass beneath her feet, waiting for the blood to turn to fire
Her jockey's concentration tight as wire within his leather seat

The gate is down and sixteen horses thrust into the light
The colours of the jockeys glow like suns
A thousand beats a minute from a cloud of whirling legs
Each one a hammer driving down five tons, driving down five tons

See the lady dance, slow motion shows her agile gliding grace
The leaping, stretching splendour of their race, see the lady dance
Fragile yet so strong, balance and precision, these are all
The timing of the hoofbeats, where they fall, you dare not get them wrong

Like a rifle firing there comes a vicious crack
The lady screams and stumbles to the earth
The riders thunder past her as he shrieks her dire distress
Entangled in her saddle, bit and girth, saddle bit and girth.

Judgement has been read, cannon bone and sesamoids are broke
A verdict that o mortal can revoke, the needle and she's dead
The ambulance has gone, they'll set the jockey's fracture, ease his pain
Someday he might be fit to ride again, still the race goes on.

Out there in the paddock they're pouring the champagne
For the ladies in their sunhats and their pride
For the favourite came in winner at odds of five to one
But who will mourn the lady that just died, the lady that just died

In the members bar the syndicate is drinking what it lost
Discussing what a two-year-old might cost, curse the members bar
Curse the punters all, for two-year-olds have vigour, heart and grace
But growing bones too fragile yet to race.
Who mourns them when they fall?