The stirrups may rust, and rains turn to dust, dreamers never break down
And I am the last painted Pony, though I was once quite a steed in my pride,
Will the child you once were, come along with me now, and take the last carousel ride?
And I am the last painted Pony, though I was once quite a steed in my pride,
Will the child you once were, come along with me now, and take the last carousel ride?





