Dead Man's Boots - Sting

You see these work boots in my hands, they’ll probably fit you now my son

Take them, they’re a gift from me, why don’t you try them on?

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 his old man’s boots

He said, «I'm nearly done and asking this, that you do one final thing for me

You’re barely but a sapling, and you think that you’re a tree

If you need a seed to prosper, you must first put down some roots

Just one foot then the other in these dead man’s boots»

These dead man’s boots know their way down the hill

They could walk there themselves and they probably will

There’s a place for you there to sink your roots

And take a walk to the river in his old man’s boots

I said, «Why in the hell would I do that?

And why would I agree?»

When his hand was all that I’d received, as far as I remember

It’s not as if he’d spoiled me with his kindness up to then you 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 half pennies left, or a broken pot to piss in

He wanted this same thing for me, was that his final wish?

He said, «What the hell are you going to do?»

I said, «Anything but this!»

These dead man’s boots know their way down the hill

They can walk there themselves and they most likely will

But they won’t walk with me because I’m off the other way

I’ve had it up to here, I’m going to have my say

When all you’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 you’ll die before you see me in your dead man’s boots