Heavy Horses Lyrics - Heavy Horses - Jethro Tull

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 

And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do 

The tractor? s on its way 

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Let 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 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 

And now you? re down to the few and there? s no work to do 

The tractor? s on its way 

Photos 

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 woods 

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 

So 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 

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 

Bring me a wheel of oaken woods 

A rein of polished leather 

A heavy horse and the tumbling sky 

Brewing heavy weather 

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 way 

Oh, 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 way 

Oh, 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 way 

Now heavy horses move the land under me 

Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free