| B | |
| Sold my cold knot |
| Gm# | F# | |
| A heavy | stone |
| B | Gm# | F# | |
| Sold my red horse | for a venture | home |
| To vanish on the bow -- |
| E | |
| Settling | slow |
| Gm# | |
| Fit it all, fit it in the | doldrums |
| (Or so the story goes) |
| E | |
| Color the era |
| Gm# | |
| Film it's his | torical |
| B | |
| My mile could not |
| Gm# | F# | |
| Pump the | plumb |
| B | Gm# | F# | |
| In my arbor ' | till my ardor | trumped |
| every inner inertia |
| E | |
| Lump | sum |
| All at once |
| Gm# | |
| Rushing from the s | ub-pump |
| (Or so the story goes) |
| E | |
| Balance we won't know |
| Gm# | |
| We will see when it gets | warm |
| ---- |
| Enjoy :) |