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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 as historical, ah
My mile could not pump the plumb
In my arbor till my ardor trumped
Every inner inertia
Lump sum
All at once rushing from the sump-pump
Or so the story goes
Balance we wont know
We will see when it gets warm, ah