From Walter

We watch the man , on high horse ride
Through peasant street , he trots on by  
Adorned with prize , he flaunts his pride
The men all cheer , the woman sigh
Yet , both look on with jealous eyes
The fame he holds , we all despise
 
I wonder though , is it just luck ?  
He found the path , success is about  
Or the common man , be forever stuck  
Impoverished by, the hand of doubt  
It might be that , it's just gods plan  
He knows it is , he thinks he can