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Boots of Spanish Leather
par
Bob Dylan
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Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love I'm sailin' away in the morning Is there somethin' I can send you? I'm across the sea From the place that I'll be landing No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love There's nothin' that I'm wishing to be ownin' Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled From across that lonesome ocean Ah, but I just thought you might want somethin' fine Made of silver or of golden Either from the mountains of Madrid Or from the coast of Barcelona Well, if I had the stars from the darkest night And the diamonds from the deepest ocean I’d forsake them all for your sweet kiss For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin' Well I might be gone a long old time And it's only that I'm asking Is there somethin' I can send you to remember me by? To make your time more easy passing
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