These boots have counted off many a band
|
Playing one night roadhouse stands
|
For tips in empty rooms
|
These boots have stood toe-to-toe
|
with the biggest baddest joes
|
Like they had some things to prove
|
These boots
|
|
Yeah these boots more than once have saved my ass
|
Like the time they hid that grass
|
From those cops in Tupelo
|
And these boots have danced with the devil
|
and nearly lost that battle
|
to a wild-eyed Irish Rose
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
I wore out more soles than I care to count
|
Done more stupid things than most would dare to
|
I've kicked myself more times than not
|
for the roads they led me down
|
but the damndest thing I've ever seen them do
|
is walkin' out on you.
|
|
These boots had to see California
|
and an Arizona morning where God paints the sky
|
And these boots had to spur that beast in Cheyenne
|
Thought that bull'd make me a real man
|
I still drag that leg sometimes
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
Now these boots are one step from the door
|
They walked out of years before
|
I can almost see her now
|
These boots ought to kick that door aside
|
Stomp out my foolish pride
|
But they just turn around
|
Damn these boots
|
Damn these boots
|
These boots
|
|
-----------------
|
These Boots
|
Eric Church |