in another sleepy hollow

in the still and quiet valley
under massive oak tree
there lurks an apparition
waiting silently for me

a giant horse's body
with a giant horse's head
yet in spite of giant reins
he's a horse that won't be led

with his pompous, glimmering saddle
and his rider who, no doubt
a man with one strike could behead
then toss that head about

i pass into the valley
where the winds, they blow and gale
in the darkness of the forest
and the distant, spooky wail

i see that horse's shimmering
i sneak quickly, tree to tree
but the great warhorse is legless
and he won't be catching me

that pitiful legless horseman
through eternity frustrated
he's hung 'round since the war
but his blade has not blood tasted

that pitiful legless horseman
doomed to haunt none but himself
his paleness like a pail of milk
gone sour on a shelf