Heavy Horses - Jethro Tull

Heavy Horses - Jethro Tull
Written by：Ian Anderson
Iron clad feather feet pounding the dust
On October's day towards evening
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough
Salt on a deep chest seasoning
Last of the line at an honest day's toil
Turning the deep sod under
Flint at the fetlock chasing the bone
Flies at the nostrils plunder
The Suffolk the Clydesdale the Percheron vie
With the shire on his feathers floating
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
To bed on a warm straw coating
Heavy horses move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on it's way
Let me find you a filly
For your proud stallion seed
To keep the old line going
And we'll stand you abreast at the back of the woods
Behind the young trees growing
To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth
You're eighteen hands at the shoulder
And one day when the oil barons have all dripped dry
And the nights are seen to draw colder
They'll beg for your strength your gentle power
Your noble grace and your bearing
And you'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls
In the wake of the deep plough sharing
Heavy horses move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on it's way
Oh heavy horses move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on it's way
Oh heavy horses move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding slipping and sliding free