Dead Man’s Boots

Dead Man's Boots - Michael Esper/Collin Kelly-Sordelet/Jamie Jackson

Written by：Sting

You said you've seen these work boots in my hands

They'll probably fit ye now my son

Take them they're a gift from me

Why don't you try them on

Cause it would do your old man good to see

You walking in these boots one day

And take your place among the men

Who work upon the slipway

These dead man's boots

Though they're old and curled

When a feller needs a job

And a place in the world

And it's time for a man to put down roots

And walk to the river in your old man's boots

I said why in the hell would I do that

And why would I agree

When your hand was all that I'd received

As far as I remember

Well it's not as if you'd spoiled me

With your kindness up to then ye see

I'd a plan of me own and I'd quit this place

When I came of age September

These dead man's boots know

Their way down the hill

They can walk there themselves

And they probably will

I'd plenty of choices

And plenty other routes

And he'd never see me

Walking in these dead man's boots

What was it made him think

I'd be happy ending up like him

When he'd hardly got two halfpennies left

Or a broken pot to piss in

And he wanted this same thing for me

Was that his final wish

And what the hell you're going to do

Anything but this

These dead man's boots

Know their way down the hill

They can walk there themselves

And they probobly will

But they won't walk with me

Cause I'm off the other way

I've had it up to here

I'm gonna have my say

When all ye've got left is that cross on the wall

I want nothing from you

I want nothing at all

Not a pension nor a pittance

When your whole life is through

Get this through your head

I'm nothing like you

I'm done with all the arguments

There'll be no more dispute

And ye'll die before ye see me

In these dead man's boots