Shoestrings - Billy Jones
ramble through the briar and brush
grass stains and burrs
on my shoestrings
I am just a kid who played in trees
who climbs a rock and skins his knee
comes crying home with blood
on his shoestrings
[chorus]
ain't it funny how we come to hang on things
it seems we just get by on a shoestring
it seems that once we learn to tie
the tear should never leave the eye
though still I stumble, fall and cry
I don't believe that not supposed to be
in my shoe strings
[Repeat Chorus]
all well and grown the elder son
is always told that he's the one to fill the shoes
when daddy's gone but that race has already run
and he won't lose his soul for his shoestrings
[Repeat Chorus]
so gamble down the years of age
the sky's afire and sunsets rage
still we gather and bind the page
sneakers from the wire
hang by their shoestrings
[Repeat Chorus]
© 1984 by Billy Jones