I Was a Wayward Pastel Bay

I was a wayward pastel bay, with a prize pound
Many times I feel in the mood, overcome and fell
Ten thousand branches looping through
One minor constant luded patch
A limping and broken branch
Confused and slightly out of reach
I think I saw it, did you
I think I saw it too
There goes another one, another one
There goes another one, and another one
I didn’t know when you were asleep
But you wake and told your dreams to me
All the scenes and things that it could mean
That sense of rifled air, but my short beers in tear
In sage and in the viscous night
Slip fabric on a movie screen, a boulevard reality
Fly away quick with feathers cold
Send through the funnel and flown to the fold