Walked Every Road

They've seen a thousand miles of backroad dust,

Walked through the rain when the sky fell down,

Got a little mud and a whole lotta rust,

But they never let me down.

The leather's cracked and the soles are thin,

There's a tear where my heel rolls through,

But every scar on these old boots Has a story or two.

These old worn-out boots have carried me home,

Through the good times and the nights alone,

From Sunday morning to Friday night,

They've walked beside me through every fight.

They ain't worth much at the general store,

But I wouldn't trade 'em for a brand-new pair,

'Cause these old worn-out boots

Have been everywhere I've been.

They've stood beside me at my daddy's grave,

Danced with a girl underneath golden lamps,

Kicked up dust when I tried to be brave,

And froze beside me on cold winter nights.

They've crossed old bridges and creek beds too,

Stood on porches waiting for you,

And if these boots could talk tonight,

Lord, they'd have a tale or two.

Someday these soles might finally give out,

And the leather might fade away,

But I'll hang 'em by the back door,

For all the roads they showed me along the way.

These old worn-out boots carried me home,

Through every mile I've ever known,

They've got scars, they've got dust,

They've got memories I can trust.

And when I take that last step through,

I'll know they did what old boots do— These old worn-out boots

Walked every road with me. (ahhhh)