Blistered Feet

You make a survey of the country you travel through
You see madmen busking on the street for food
Since you stepped through the mirror you’ve been confused
Ain’t it possible my compass was misconstrued?

Get me away from this lonely town
I’m a slave to my money but I can’t put it down
You could find all the meaning you need if you looked around
But the street signs and sidewalks are turning brown

With blistered feet and tattered shoes
I’ve forgotten how many mirrors I have looked into
You may slave in resistance to the easiest truth
The bottle is poison and the cake is too

Send me back to the ruins of a ruined town
I’m searching for something real but my wallet is full
When I’ve run through my money they may call me a fool
This is wrong
I was a fool all along

Change your appearance and change your name
The letterhead is sufficient but the city has changed
Pawn the watch in my waistcoat pocket, and toss my guitar to the ground
I returned to my childhood home and burned it down

You wear the only shirt you have ever worn
You try to read a magazine but the cover is torn
When they see the true person in me they’ll toss my body back to the sea
When the goods are damaged you send them back to the place they were born

With blistered feet and tattered shoes
I stepped through a thousand mirrors expecting you
You may slave in resistance for a shameful truth
All I need now is somebody to push me through

Send me back to the ruins of a ruined town
I’m searching for something real but my wallet is full
When I’ve run through my money they may call me a fool
This is wrong
I was a fool along

You make a survey of the country you travel through
You see wise men giving advice for food
When you stepped through the mirror you lost your view
Ain’t it possible my compass was misconstrued

(Lyrics copyright Christopher Stetson Wilson 2009)