Gordon Lightfoot Don Quixote Lyrics
            Through the woodland, through the valley
            Comes a horseman wild and free
            Tilting at the windmills passing
            Who can the brave young horseman be?
        
            He is wild, but he is mellow
            He is strong, but he is weak
            He is cruel, but he is gentle
            He is wise, but he is meek
        
            Reaching for his saddlebag
            He takes a battered book into his hand
            Standing like a prophet bold
            He shouts across the ocean to the shore
            'Til he can shout no more
        
            I have come o'er moor and mountain
            Like the hawk upon the wing
            I was once a shining knight
            Who was the guardian of a king
        
            I have searched the whole world over
            Looking for a place to sleep
            I have seen the strong survive
            And I have seen the lean grow weak
        
            See the children of the earth
            Who wake to find the table bare
            See the gentry in the country
            Riding off to take the air
        
            Reaching for his saddlebag
            He takes a rusty sword into his hand
            Then, striking up a knightly pose
            He shouts across the ocean to the shore
            'Til he can shout no more
        
            See the jailer with his key
            Who locks away all trace of sin
            See the judge upon the bench
            Who tries the case as best he can
        
            See the wise and wicked ones
            Who feed upon life's sacred fire
            See the soldier with his gun
            Who must be dead to be admired
        
            See the man who tips the needle
            See the man who buys and sells
            See the man who puts the collar
            On the ones who dare not tell
        
            See the drunkard in the tavern
            Stemming gold to make ends meet
            See the youth in ghetto black
            Condemned to life upon the street
        
            Reaching for his saddlebag
            He takes a tarnished cross into his hand
            Then standing like a preacher now
            He shouts across the ocean to the shore
            Then in a blaze of tangled hooves
            He gallops off across the dusty plain
            In vain to search again
            Where no one will hear
        
            Through the woodland, through the valley
            Comes a horseman wild and free
            Tilting at the windmills passing
            Who can the brave young horseman be
        
            He is wild but he is mellow
            He is strong but he is weak
            He is cruel but he is gentle
            He is wise but he is meek
        
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