Sorting through my things
See what I can find
Picking through the past
See what's left behind Multicolored sweaters
That moths have eaten holes
A pair of braided mocassins
With worn out soles Boots were made for walking
Winds were blowing change
Boys fall in the jungle
As I came of age Black and white TV
With a broken twelve inch screen
Dylan's Highway 61
And Jackie's love machine Boots were made for walking
Winds were blowing change
Boys fall in the jungle
As I came of age I reread your letters
And again I cry great tears
Light comes to the surface
Even after all these years Oh, boots were made for walking
Winds were blowing change
Boys fall in the jungle
As I came of age As I came of age
As I came of age
As I came of age
...
