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The gold road's sure a long road Winds on through the |
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hills for fifteen days The pack on my back is aching The |
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straps seem to cut me like a knife The gold road's sure a |
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long road Winds on through the hills for fifteen days |
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The pack on my back is aching The straps seem to cut |
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me like a knife I'm no clown, I won't back down I don't |
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need you to tell me what's going down Down, down, |
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down, down, down, down, down Down, down, down, |
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down, down, down, down, down I'm standing |
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alone, I'm watching you all I'm seeing you sinking I'm |
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standing alone, you're weighing the gold I'm watching |
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you sinking Fool's Gold |
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These boots weren't made for walking The Marquis De |
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Sade never made no boots like these Gold's just around |
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the corner Breakdown's coming up round the bend |
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Sometimes you have to try to get along dear I know the |
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truth and I know what you're thinking Down, down, down, |
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down, down, down, down |
