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Oh, barefoot boy,
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once he came unto a land of forests,
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and of streams
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that tumbled through the meadows to the sea.
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He called it home for many were its wonders
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and he learned to live upon the land
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taking only what he needed.
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Barefoot boy
|
he don't like the concrete
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seek the country any way he can.
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Barefoot boy
|
fading down the street.
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I know he'll never come this way again.
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Time passes on,
|
in this life of always changing
|
people coming
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building cities
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cut your forest
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pave your highway.
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Oh barefoot boy,
|
wraps his blanket 'round his shoulders,
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says goodbye to misty valleys,
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once more he sets off to wander
|
|
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Barefoot Boy
|
| Harry Chapin |
