We've got a poor old horse,
|
He's standing at your door,
|
And if you'll only let him in,
|
He'll greet you all I'm sure,
|
He'll greet you all I'm sure.
|
|
He'll greet you all I'm sure,
|
He'll greet you all I'm sure.
|
|
Now that He's grown old
|
And nature doth decay,
|
My master frowns upon him now,
|
These words I've heard him say,
|
These words I've heard him say.
|
|
These words I've heard him say,
|
These words I've heard him say.
|
|
Now that he's grown old
|
And scarcely can he crawl,
|
He's forced to eat the coarsest grass,
|
That grows against the wall,
|
That grows against the wall.
|
|
That grows against the wall,
|
It grows against the wall.
|
|
This poor horse was once young,
|
And in his youthful prime,
|
My master used to ride on him,
|
He thought him very fine,
|
He thought him very fine.
|
|
He thought him very fine,
|
He thought him very fine.
|
|
-----------------
|
Poor Old Horse
|
Kate Rusby |