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
So the story goes
Color the era
Film it, it's historical, my
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 sub pump
So the story goes
Balance we won't know
We will see when it gets warm

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS