Worn Out Shoes

I’m the red kettle, water on the boil
Just before the whistling
The ground exhausted and torn
The back of my neck glistening
I don’t have anything left
You always take me like that

For what it’s worth
All I have for you
Is a handful of trash and some worn out shoes

I’m a wrung rag on the line
A burning lamp on the stand
A hooked fish tied from the fire
The farmer’s cracked and calloused hands
I don’t have anything left
You always take me like that

For what it’s worth
All I have for you
Is a handful of trash and some worn out shoes

I’m the barren branch of a tree
Waiting once again to bear
Tongue-tied with the words out of reach
It’s a fight that’s never quite fair
I don’t have anything left
You always take me like that

For what it’s worth
All I have for you
Is a handful of trash and some worn out shoes