Phillips Many are the days that pa** you by The dark horse is there 'tis he you must ride You will ride in the light of old moldy tears But black is the color of your solitudeYou speak to be seen, you shout to be heard But an echo of light is all that returnsThe echo comes in and you rise to its joy But then it fades out and returns to the voidThen someone will come and share in your life Who'll hear with your ears and see with your sight Your life is restored your thoughts are renewed But black is still the color of all solitude