Rasta Shoes
by Mark
My Rasta Shoes, on my feet
My Rasta Shoes, they keep me in beat.
My Rasta Shoes, they don't smoke weed.
Let's go dancing tonight!
When I come home from a hard day's out
I don't let my Rasta Shoes lay about.
They got their own very special place -
A little round polka dotted speckled-like case.
Runnin, runnin, down the street
Hippin 'n hoppin to the reagge beat
Where will I end up? Where will I go?
Ask my shoes, they'll probably know.
Back and forth, back forth,
Where am I going, South or North?
Alway winning, nothing to loose,
When I'm going to town in my Rasta shoes.
Rooftop rooftop, tree to tree
Jump ah jump jump my Rasta Shoes and me
Up to the sky, but I'm not high
With my Rasta Shoes, yeah, I'll get by.
RE: Nick's Story
Very nice sentiments. Couldn't sum up the ideas and feeling myself. well maybe
i could have but i won't now. It's perfect.