| I’m feelin' down and lonesome and you might laugh at me
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| Sittin' in the deep depths of the blues
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| I’m sittin' here a’talkin to two old friends of mine
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| A pair of busted worn out knocked out shoes
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| Although they might be covered with dust from many miles
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| Oh i love them so my worn out ramblin' shoes
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| Oh i love them my worn out ramblin' shoes
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| My life has turned a tumble I’m walkin' here in town
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| But it’s not the kind of life that i would choose
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| But there will come a mornin' when i’ll light out again
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| Proudly wearing you old ramblin' shoes
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| And your soles will all be mended and you’ll be shinin' just like new
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| Steppin' out again old ramblin' shoes
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| Oh steppin' out again old ramblin' shoes
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| So don’t you come a stompin' into my dreams at night
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| Givin' me these awful city blues
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| Oh you’re placed here by my bedside so don’t you move again
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| Or i’ll lock you up until it’s time to move
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| But you’re made from Gypsy leather like the sinews of my heart
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| And that’s why we get along old ramblin' shoes
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| Oh that’s why we get along old ramblin' shoes
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| So when i walk that last road to the wanderers camp on high
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| I hope i’m taken with the chosen few
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| My clothes will not splendid my manners not so neat
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| But i’ll be wearing you old busted worn out shoes
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| And the men on high are wise men and they’ll see what we’ve been through
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| And say welcome home old worn out ramblin' shoes
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| Oh welcome home old worn out ramblin' shoes |