The Cry Of The Banished Horseman

When the night is starved and mean and long with dread

And a bitter frost is filling up your bed

You put your ear against the pale and howling wall

You can almost hear the rider's mournful call

(Hulloo! Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman

He rode in darkness on an o'nery steed of black

O'er the broken graves and wagon tracks

Now drag your door against the snow and listen west

You can almost hear the rider in the mist

(Hulloo! Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman

For forty days and forty nights he fell

From Sacramento to the battered gates of Hell

Now take a step into the hard and deathly chill

You can almost hear the rider cross the hill

(Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman

A hunting horn and knife held in his killing fist

The Mark of Cain, a brand upon his wrist

Now lean into the blizzard's fury, if you dare

You can almost hear the rider's trumpet blare

(Hulloo! Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman

They marked his arm because he gone and killed a man

And cast him out to roam uncharted land

Now brave another pace and step into the fear

You can almost hear the rider drawing near

(Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman

And to the man he killed, he vowed to never mourn

To those he left, he promised to return

Now call three times into the unforgiving storm

You can almost hear the rider spread his arms

(Hulloo! Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman

I am that rider on the dark, dark steed

When they asked who saved you, tell 'em it was Reed

Now follow me into the savage night

You can almost hear a new dawn's early light

(Hulloo! Hulloo!)

It's the cry of the banished horseman