Heavy Horses (Live at Madison Square Garden) Jethro Tull

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
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