The Greyhound

Long before the concrete towns,
Before the bells, before the hounds,
They walked beside the earliest fire,
Dust-born dogs with a wild desire.
Across the dunes they learned to glide,
Ancient hunters, quiet pride,
Kings and caravans knew their name,
Gentle spirits, hard to tame.

They would run like the wind,
Feel the world on their skin,
Free as the day begins
Oh they run like the wind.

Then came the tracks and the empty lights,
Metal cages and restless nights,
Numbers painted on their side,
Round the oval they were tied.
Crowds were roarin’, but no one heard,
The lonely language of a borrowed world,
Speed was traded like a sin—
They had to race… again, again.

They had to race like the wind,
Chasin’ ghosts to win,
Till their faith wore thin—
Forced to race like the wind.

Yeah but the gates fell open,
A softer road appeared,
The roar turned into whispers,
And freedom drew them near.

Now they sleep on second-hand thrones,
Curled up deep in loving homes,
Calm rescue giants, breathin’ slow,
Dreamin’ places they used to know.
Eyes like amber, hearts unchained,
Stretch those legs out in the rain,
And once a day the spark returns
‘Cause they remember how to burn.

And they run like the wind,
Not for money, not to win,
Just to feel alive again
Yeah they run like the wind.

One big zoom across the yard,
Thirty seconds, thunder hearts,
Then they fall back soft and tall,
Quiet giants after all.
They get to run because it’s fun,
Underneath the settin’ sun
Greyhound joy goes rushin’ in…
And the fastest dogs are home again.