Boots of a Soldier

i wear the boots of a soldier

who’s name was slidell

and my foot fits inside them

really quite well

and I wonder about the stories

these boots could tell

did slidell live or die?

did their mama cry

and go through hell?

 

ten years my senior

and a hundred or so

this guitar that i’m strumming

neath this weeping willow

and it boggles the mind

all the passing of time

and the mysteries that abound

elude and confound you

all the stories you’ll never know

 

in your tiny little umwelt

just livin the dream

learnin that how you see things

is just how they seem

and you could think of some ways

that happy could get hard to do

but there’s never not more

so, i would say, if you’re bored

that’s on you