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BOOTS OF SPANISH LEATHER by Bob Dylan, Copyright 1963 See also Digitrad |
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Sailing away my own true love, Sailing away in the morning. Is there something I can bring you from across the sea, From the place where I'll be landing ? No, there's nothing you can bring me, my own true love, But There's nothing I'm wishing to be owning. Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled, From across that lonesome ocean. But I just thought you might want something fine Made of silver or of golden, Either from the mountains of Madrid Or from the coast of Barcelona. But if I had the star of a darkest night Or diamonds from the deepest ocean, I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss, For that's all I'm wishing to be owning. For I might be gone some long long time And it's only something I'm asking, Is there something I can bring you to remember me by, To make the time more easy passing ? Oh, how can, how can you ask me again ? For you know it only brings me sorrow. The same things that I would want today, I'd want again tomorrow. But I got a letter on a lonesome day, And it was from her ship a-sailing, Saying I don't know when I'll be coming back again, Well it depends on how I'm feeling. If you, my love, can think this way, Then I'm sure your thoughts are roaming. I'm sure your thoughts they're not with me, But with the country where you're going. And so take heed, take heed of the western wind, Take heed of the stormy weather. And yes, there is something that you can bring back to me, Spanish boots of Spanish leather. |