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      Heavy Horses

      Heavy Horses

      Jethro Tull

      Album: Heavy Horses (Remaster)

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      Jethro Tull - Heavy Horses Música y Letra

      Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dust
      An 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 its 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 wood
      behind the young trees growing
      To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth,
      and your 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.
      Standing like tanks on the brow of the hill
      Up into the cold wind facing
      In stiff battle harness, chained to the world
      Against the low sun racing
      Bring me a wheel of oaken wood
      A rein of polished leather
      A Heavy Horse and a tumbling sky
      Brewing heavy weather.
      Bring a song for the evening
      Clean brass to flash the dawn
      across these acres glistening
      like dew on a carpet lawn
      In these dark towns folk lie sleeping
      as the heavy horses thunder by
      to wake the dying city
      with the living horseman's cry
      At once the old hands quicken ---
      bring pick and wisp and curry comb ---
      thrill to the sound of all
      the heavy horses coming home.

      Jethro Tull - Heavy Horses Música y Letra






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