One, two
One, two, three, four
Pretty horses are what I have to ride
Lonely memories are where I go to hide
Empty pages are all I choose to write
About our love, our love
About our love, our love
Broken windows are what I look through
Softly searching for small signs of me and you
Gently thinking of what's left that we could do
About our love, our love
About our love, our love, about our love
About our love, our love
About our love, our love
About our love
About our love, our love
About our love, our love
About our love
Pretty horses are still hard to ride
With each other we will find a place to hide
All the pages are still there to write
About our love, our love
About our love, our love

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS