Brown Boots (Acoustic)

Eyelids feel like anvils in his sweat stained sheets
Another morning came too damn soon

And his rusty knees are creaking like his old box spring bed
Rising to the another week of sweat

And through the highs and lows
The only ones who ever know
Are those brown boots and they're wearing thin

If those boots could talk
Tell of how he walked the walk
No complaints, no violins

Another day of busting ass a punching bag for the upper class
And those talking head whores that are bought and paid for

Invisible to a public eye hypnotized to only recognize
The spoon fed drama from an unreality show

And through the highs and lows
The only ones who ever know
Are those brown boots and they're wearing thin

If those boots could talk
Tell of how he walked the walk
No complaints, no violins

He's walking on a treadmill with a hole in his pocket
How on earth can he ever get ahead

Without his old guitar, his better half and the local bar
He's dynamite waiting to explode

And through the highs and lows
The only ones who ever know
Are those brown boots and they're wearing thin

If those boots could talk
Tell of how he walked the walk
No complaints, no violins