thar's a feelin' of pleasure, mixed in with some pain,

that over my memory scoots,

when i think of my boyhood days once again

and my fust pair of copper toed boots.

how our folks stood around when i fust tried them on,

and bravely marched out on the floor,

and father remarked "thar a mighty good fit

and the best to be had at the store."

that night, i remember, i took them to bed,

with the rest of us little galoots,

and among other things in my prars which i sed

wuz a reference to copper toed boots.

and then in the mornin' the fust one on hand

wuz me and my new acquisition,

and thar wuzn't a spot in the house that i missed,

from the garret clar down to the kitchen.

then with feelin's expandin', and huntin' fer room,

i concluded i'd help do the chores;

fer i felt as though somethin' wuz goin' to bust

if i didn't git right out of doors.

but those boots they were new, and the ice it wuz slick,

and i couldn't get one way or tother,

and i jist had to stand right there in one spot

and holler like thunder fer mother.

but trouble's a blessing sometimes in disguise

fer i larned right thar on the spot,

that the best sort of knowledge to hav in this world

is that by experience taught.

so though many years have since passed away,

and i've ventured on various routes,

i'm still tryin' things jist as risky today

as my fust pair of copper toed boots.