Kicking Pine Cones with Your Felt Boots - 3

Someone on a Hillside
Boating Down the River

MY FELT BOOTS

Oh my felt boots, made of felt
Very old and rather dwelt (in)

I can’t wear you any more
Can’t walk in you like before

Oh my felt boots, made of felt
You turn my po’ feet into welts

Oh my felt boots, you are felt
In you my feet so strongly smelt

Oh you Nicky, you’re aground
Stay at home, don’t fuck around

Oh my felt boots, made of felt
Squeeze my feet just like the belts

Don’t go out, the weather sucks
Don’t seduce young gals with shucks

Oh my felt boots, you are felt
No longer warm, you’re just a pelt

To chase the gals don’t even dare
You’d better your felt boots repair

Oh my felt boots, made of felt
In front of you I humbly knelt

Oh my felt boots, you are felt
You with my hands I gently held

People judged me, God was cross
For my dissipation
So I used my bare feet
To get to your location

Oh my felt boots, you are felt
So with your cock I fin’ly dealt

Oh my felt boots, made of felt
In you my feet are strong and svelte

Oh my felt boots, you are felt
Now all my heart in you will melt

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