Power to the Plough.
She sits there all used up, a shadow of her past self. The remains of her bodywork, only survive.
Rusting, and decaying into an iron oxide heap. No more use, the old gal is turning into a junk yard art scape.
Mice make homes in her alcoves, spiders spin webs amongst her corroded remains.
The red Fergie has passed her sell by date, a relic from the past.
She had a full and busy life on the farm, powering the plough to turn the earth.
Sowing, planting and rolling the fields.
Reaping the rewards of the harvest, towing trailers of corn, grass, and hay bales in the summer sun. The farmers friend, rugged and dependable, out in all weathers.
After all that she is just a farm vehicle, a tool of the trade. Her days of powering the plough are over now.
You moulded me to your perfection then bounced me around the room
to show ownership of me to your friends
So I purred and smiled and batted my eyes
Acted asthough I enjoyed it
I loved all of them the way you taught me
So you were pleased for a while
For a while I was safe
You bent me out of shape and pushed me as far as I could take
So I tried to smile and bat my eyes but I couldn't help but cry
It made you happy for a while
These chains swing and hurt my wrists as they break and cut my veins
I'm lying here alone unclaimed
I wish to feel the hurt again
I want the tears upon my face
The cold gleam in your eye
I need you to be happy for a while
The darkness stinks, I'm in disgrace all used up a broken face
Bones are broken beneath the skin
I love your smile you've such a grin
Now at least your happy again
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