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Silver Palomino Lyrics
(A mother dies leaving her young son
to come to terms with the loss.
In remembrance of Fiona Chappel,
for her sons Tyler and Oliver.)
I was barely 13 years old
She came out of the Guadalupe's on a night so cold
Her coat was frosted diamonds in the sallow moon's glow
My silver palomino
Sixteen hands from her withers to the ground
I lie in bed and listen to the sound
Of the west Texas thunder roll
My silver palomino
I track her into the mountains she loved
Watch her from the rocks above
She'd dip her neck and drink from the winter flows
My silver palomino
Our mustaneros were the very best, sir
But they could never lay a rope on her
No corral will ever hold
The silver palomino
In my dreams bareback I ride
Over the pradera low and wide
As the wind sweeps out the draw
'Cross the scrub desert floor
I'd give my riata and spurs
If I could be forever yours
I'd ride into the serrania where no one goes
For my silver palomino
Summer drought come hard that year
Our herd grazed the land so bare
Me and my dad had to blowtorch the thorns off the prickly pear
And mother, your hand slipped from my hair
Tonight I wake early the sky is pearl, the stars aglow
I saddle up my red roan
I ride deep into the mountains along a ridge of pale stone
Where the air is still with the coming snow
As I rise higher I can smell your hair
The scent of your skin, mother, fills the air
'Midst the harsh scrub pine that grows
I watch the silver palomino
to come to terms with the loss.
In remembrance of Fiona Chappel,
for her sons Tyler and Oliver.)
She came out of the Guadalupe's on a night so cold
Her coat was frosted diamonds in the sallow moon's glow
My silver palomino
Sixteen hands from her withers to the ground
I lie in bed and listen to the sound
Of the west Texas thunder roll
My silver palomino
I track her into the mountains she loved
Watch her from the rocks above
She'd dip her neck and drink from the winter flows
My silver palomino
Our mustaneros were the very best, sir
But they could never lay a rope on her
No corral will ever hold
The silver palomino
Over the pradera low and wide
As the wind sweeps out the draw
'Cross the scrub desert floor
If I could be forever yours
I'd ride into the serrania where no one goes
For my silver palomino
Summer drought come hard that year
Our herd grazed the land so bare
Me and my dad had to blowtorch the thorns off the prickly pear
And mother, your hand slipped from my hair
I saddle up my red roan
I ride deep into the mountains along a ridge of pale stone
Where the air is still with the coming snow
As I rise higher I can smell your hair
The scent of your skin, mother, fills the air
'Midst the harsh scrub pine that grows
I watch the silver palomino
Song Info
Submitted by
monkeywrench74 On Sep 17, 2006
More Bruce Springsteen
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Born in the U.S.A.
Secret Garden
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Does no one have any ideas about this song? It's good to listen to. I think that the horse is some kind of symbol for life, youth, our dreams, she can never be held on to or captured. From the view of the singer the embodiment of this truth is his mother whose hand slips from his hair, he chases her memory, her life, into the mountains like the elusive horse that holds his imagination.
Seems a long time since that comment was made. It's interesting, that still seems to be the sort of idea this song gives. Springsteen gives the song a sort of story, a family, a struggle to make ends meet, the passing of those we love. But running through that is this horse, something of great beauty that can never be held on to, just glimpsed.....those are just my thoughts. Does anyone else have any ideas about what this song means? Along with Highway Patrolman and Rosalita this is just about my favourite Springsteen song....