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Ellen Walker was a life-long equestrian who penned these words that I set to music as a gift from her husband, Don Walker, who is a boot maker. Shortly after collaborating on this song, Ellen was killed in a horse accident. When I sing this song, I think of the deep understanding of horses and the people who love them that are reflected in these lyrics.


Little boy tugged at his mama’s hand to get that pony ride.
A little scared when he climbed on but when it was over he cried
all the home in the car he chanted that pony’s name.
Now every Christmas and birthday his wish list is the same

(He, She, We) dream of horses. (He, She, We) hear them calling our names
and (He, She, We) need the drum of hoof beats, the swinging stride and the smell of a horses mane.

This gal knows about falling down and climbing right back on.
Shoveled stalls hauled hay in the snow, fed horses horses before dawn.
School bell rings and she’s at the gate, calling that pony’s name.
Years will come and years will go but this will never change.

Some of us became doctors or followed other dreams.
Teachers, lawyers, nurses or pilots of US Marines.
Wherever we went in this world, whatever else we became, for those of us born to be horsemen
the dream will never change.