My mind is young, my body lean,
I live in Petrograd, the year is 1917.
I see the horses in the street,
I hear the sound of running feet,
I see the torches burning bright
Marching out into the night…
I turn my horse towards the sun.
They say the movement has begun
When every man shall own his share;
An end to sorrow and despair.
And now they say the Tsar has gone…
I turn my horse towards the sun.
Though I am tired, I must ride on
To find the peace I know I want.
The Caucasus and the Ukraine -
Across the land and back again -
Then down the seaboard we will ride,
Unopposed and undefied…
We turned our horses to the sun.
They say the movement has begun
When every man shall own his share;
An end to sorrow and despair.
And now they say the Tzar has gone…
We turned our horses to the sun.
And the dancers danced, balalaikas played,
As the people watched the grand parade;
And as the peasants watched, they knew
What the community could do
When they saw what had been won
And what the Soviet had done…
They turned their horses to the sun.
They say the movement has begun
When every man shall own his share;
An end to sorrow and despair.
And now they say the Tzar has gone…
They turned their horses to the sun.
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