the horse is braying

Tell the man the horse is braying
Tell him to mount and ride
And stride into dusk
And disappear into sunset

The clucks and trots we're waiting to hear
Of hooves rising dust
Disappearing into distance

Who cares were the sun sinks?
Be it in the dungeons of the Dead sea
Or behind the mist caped mountains,
Who cares ?
When the man is gone
Nobody will shade a tear.