Four White Stallions Counting Crows

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She had four white stallions coming around the bend
Four strong angels at her command descend
Four more seasons for all that's broken to mend
I got four good reasons why I can't go back there again

She had skin like a statue, milky white and pure
Carved by an artist whose hand is demure
Got a mind like a saber, razor sharp and sure
And God, how I hate myself for still wanting her

Damn these nights of dreaming visions soft and sure
Now I awake to find there's nothing left of me and her
Nothing more than a heart still at war

She had four white stallions coming up around the bend
Four strong angels already sent
Four more seasons for all that's broken to mend
She had four more seasons for all that's broken to mend
And I got four good reasons why I can't go back there again