Letra de Heavy Horses (Live at Madison Square Garden; 2009 Remaster)
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, seasoningLast 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 plunderThe 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 coatingHeavy horses move the land under me Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do The tractor? s on its wayLet me find you a filly for your proud stallion seeds To keep the old line going And we? ll stand you abreast at the back of the woods Behind the young trees growingTo 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 colderThey? 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, sharingHeavy horses move the land under me Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do The tractor? s on its wayStanding 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 racingBring me a wheel of oaken woods A rein of polished leather A heavy horse and a tumbling sky Brewing heavy weatherBring a song for the evening Clean brass to flash the dawn Across these acres glistening Like dew on a carpet lawnIn these dark towns, folk lie sleeping As the heavy horses thunder by So wake the dying city With the living horseman? s cryAt once the old hands quicken Bring pick and wisp and curry comb Thrill to the sound of all the Heavy horses coming homeIron-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, seasoningBring me a wheel of oaken woods A rein of polished leather A heavy horse and the tumbling sky Brewing heavy weatherHeavy horses move the land under me Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do The tractor? s on its wayOh, heavy horses move the land under me Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do The tractor? s on its wayOh, heavy horses move the land under me Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do The tractor? s on its wayNow heavy horses move the land under me Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free