Wild love. Wild love. Somebody chopped down my wild love. Wild love. Wild love. Somebody shot down my wild love.
Winter weather is not my soul. But the biding for spring.... . Why's everybody looking at me. Like there's something fundamentally wrong. Like I'm a southern bird.
Oh whoa (x4). . Well you're a wild horse. On a collision course. With the sun. (repeat). . I wanted to ride that wild horse. Into the sun. (repeat). .