Horses trample anywhere,
on the ground or in the air,
on anything from here to there,
they trample things form bird to bear,
in the fall and in the summer,
if they didn't it would be a bummer,
then they trample then they die,
then everybody heaves a great sigh,
for they know he'll turn to glue,
they'll feel sorry for that horse and you,
where he lays they don't care,
horses trample anywhere.