Sold my cold knot
A heavy stone
Sold my red horse for a venture home
To vanish on the bow --
Settling slow
Fit it all, fit it in the doldrums
Or so the story goes
Color the era
Film it it's historical
Ahhhhhaaahhh
My mile could not
Pump the plumb
In my arbor 'till my ardor Trumped
every inner in-ertia, Lump sum
All at once
Rushing from the sub-pump
Or so the story goes
Balance we won't know
We will see... When it gets warm
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