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Black boots


Paula Cole Lyrics

 

Black boots Lyrics

Black boots by Paula Cole


Pulling on the apron strings looking up
Standing on the chair to be grown up
I feel so little, I need my pillow
I hate the time, I hate the clock
I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock

Sunday's pancakes Miss Mary Mack
Color Polariods show my heart attack
In my second-hand pants and dusty shoes
The day that the playground laughed at my shoes
It's my birthday next week and what I want please
Is to turn on the heat so the fish won't freeze
The fish in the tank froze and died last week
Oh I want to be a dog or I want to be a leaf

Quarry miners, fishermen
In my town of Bethlehem
Picket fences, church at ten
No star above my Bethlehem

Now I'm only 16 and I think I have an ulcer
I'm hiding my sex behind a dirty sweatshirt
I've lost five pounds these past few days
Trying to be class president and get straight A's, well,
Who gives a sh*t about that anyway?
I want to be a dog or a lump of clay

Chorus

Still I'm tired of standing still
Tired of living - still
Everyday I dream of leaving

Everybody's talking about Becky's bust
The boys on the basketball team just f**k
The same ten girls, who don't know who they are
They're looking for some comfort in the back of a car
The six-packs of beer, the locker room jeers
I don't want to be me, I don't want to be here

Chorus

Red brick schoolhouse, dead end dirt roads, daffodils
No star above my Bethlehem

I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock
I don't want to be me, I don't want to be here
Bethlehem



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