[INTRO] [The last dusty guitar chord gives way to a bright fiddle pickup, acoustic strum, bass and easy live drums] A little voice came through the dust: “I wanna ride! I wanna ride!” [VERSE 1] A little robot left the workshop With a helmet and a plan Had a diagram of horses Printed on his silver hand Saw a chestnut by the fence line Said, “I’ve got this figured out” Took a running start toward the saddle While the horse just looked around [PRE-CHORUS] One boot caught the bottom rail One arm waved at the sky The horse took half a step away And let that notion fly [CHORUS] He said, “I wanna ride, I wanna ride!” With his little metal heart set on a sunset ride He landed in a cloud of dust Where the tumbleweeds go by Pulled his mask down, blinked twice, said, “Maybe riding’s not for me tonight” [INSTRUMENTAL TURNAROUND] [Four bars of playful fiddle and twangy guitar; no vocals] [VERSE 2] He brushed the dirt off both his shoulders Checked his hat and checked his knees Then he saw those chestnut ears turn And he finally let them speak Put away his riding diagram Let his busy motors rest Walked up slowly by the shoulder And let the horse decide the rest [PRE-CHORUS] No big leap and no command Just a quiet, open hand The horse leaned in to sniff it Like, “Now you understand” [CHORUS] He said, “I wanna ride, I wanna ride!” But I don’t have to climb aboard to walk here by your side We can take the fence line slowly Let the evening settle right Maybe riding’s not for me— At least not tonight [BRIDGE] A wheelbarrow never minded When he hurried through a chore But a horse could step away from him And ask for something more He couldn’t program patience Or make a heartbeat keep his time So he matched that easy footfall And let the horse set the stride [INSTRUMENTAL BREAK] [Eight bars; warm country guitar answers the fiddle, Hammond underneath; no vocals] [FINAL CHORUS] He said, “I wanna ride, I wanna ride!” The horse looked back as if to say, “We’ll see another time” Then they walked into the sunset Two long shadows side by side Maybe riding’s not for me— But walking suits us fine [OUTRO] [Band eases down; soft horse exhale, gentle fiddle and final guitar note] A little voice came through the dust: “Tomorrow?”
