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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