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
...