I ride and I ride.
To save my soul, I ride
through hardships, through rain beneath the bored pain,
in the torrential winds that twist beneath the withered
soul that's already slain. 
Beyond the early dawns within my worn, torn heart, 
beneath the streets that beat apart.
Danger, stranger, though it may seem 
when the darkened souls appear.
Within, without the endless dreams
and the unfurling echoes ringing, bringing hollow tears. 
I ride and I ride.
Still awaiting, anticipating within the distant night 
that falls through the channeled weakened flesh, 
the calls in the eve of each dawn before the dew 
that challenges my soul to rise, 
before the grand reaper of death's weary blue.
Step by step my faith must survive beyond the destinies 
that somehow keep me alive. 
I ride and I ride.
To save my soul, I ride,
marching within the beat, that beats in and out 
of the deep barren sea that never flows, 
never ceases to quench its hungered thirst of me. 
Up and down the rugged mountains to which
I climb endlessly,
I try to find the everlasting truth of my soul's eternity.
I ride and I ride.
Through the breaking, heart-aching, twisting
never-existence of my weakened soul, I ride.
Testing, never, never resting all the days of my life.
Riding to save my soul at whatever costly price.
Doing my best, doing my best.
Through life's deadly weariness
I ride and I ride.
Though weakened, battered, bruised, 
my soldier-self will fight to save my beaten soul 
beneath the eeriness of life 
that is dangling from unrest. 
I ride and I ride
to keep my withered soul alive every day of my life.
I will ride and ride still looking for the light.