[Intro]


[Verses]

Sold my cold k

not
     
A heavy stone
             
Sold my red ho

           
rse for a vent

    
ure home

To vanish on the bow -
         
Settling slow

              
Fit it all, fi

            
t it in the do


ldrums
(Or so the story goes)

Color the era
             
Film it's hist

#
orical


My mile could 

not
      
Pump the plumb
            
In my arbor 't

#           
ill my ardor t

#
rumped

every inner inertia
     
Lump sum

All at once
              
Rushing from t

    
he sub-pump

(Or so the story goes)

Balance we won

't know
              
We will see wh

           
en it gets war

m