Sorting through my things See what I can find Picking through the past See what's left behind Multicolored sweaters That moths have eaten holes A pair of braided mocassins With worn out soles Boots were made for walking Winds were blowing change Boys fall in the jungle As I came of age Black and white TV With a broken twelve inch screen Dylan's Highway 61 And Jackie's love machine Boots were made for walking Winds were blowing change Boys fall in the jungle As I came of age I reread your letters And again I cry great tears Light comes to the surface Even after all these years Oh, boots were made for walking Winds were blowing change Boys fall in the jungle As I came of age As I came of age As I came of age As I came of age ...