My uncle has a country place that no one knows about, he says it used to be a farm before the Motor Law.

Now on Sundays I allude the Eye and hop the Turbine Freight, to far outside the wire where my white haired Uncle waits.

Down in his barn my uncle preserved for me an old machine for 50 odd years. To keep it as new has been his dearest dream.

My uncle has a country place that no one knows about, he says it used to be a farm before the Motor Law.

Now on Sundays I allude the Eye and hop the Turbine Freight, to far outside the wire where my white haired Uncle weights.

Down in his barn my uncle preserved for me an old machine for 50 odd years. To keep it as new has been his dearest dream.

My uncle has a country place that no one knows about, he says it used to be a farm before the Motor Law.

Now on Sundays I allude the Eye and hop the Turbine Freight, to far outside the wire where my white haired Uncle weights.

My uncle has a country place that no one knows about, he says it used to be a farm before the motor law.

Now on Sundays I allude the Eye and hop the Turbine Freight, to far outside the wire where my white haired Uncle weights.