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

...