He had a painted mane.
He had rockers underneath
And his saddle was painted green.
I guess I rode that rocking horse
At least a million miles
From the coast of California
To the South Pacific Isles.
I wore the paint off of him-
I wore his rockers thin.
I rode him morn and evening
'Cause he was my best friend.
When I was sad he cried with me
When happy, he laughed too.
I know I just imagined it
But then it all seemed true.
Each child should have a rocking horse
To be a childhood friend
So he could ride a million miles
And then ride home again.
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