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I found my true love sprawled without breath
Between her bloody thighs was our newborn who caused her death
I paced on over to meet my newborn
But my boots they cannot grip upon this blood-soaked floor
I will wear the Denver boot
I called my preacher from Canada
"Oh tell me, preacher, what's wrong with my child?"
"He's got the Helling", my preacher say
He grabbed my elbow and tell me I must take him far away
We went to my car, turned the engine on
My car, it just stay put, though my boot's to the floor
I opened my door, I look at the ground
And around my tire the Denver boot was bound
I will wear the Denver boot
I had my newborn cradled in my arms
We crossed the mountains of Californ'
My newborn's hungry for my true love's breast
Hey, I'm a weak man, I stick to my vest
I found a goat farm, but no canteen
I looked in my boot, worn and unclean
I grabbed a goat's tit, I squeezed out the milk
Filled up the Denver boot, from this my son drank and he did not spill
I will wear the Denver boot
In California, they've got earthquakes
The flock does crave them next to my son's shakes
In San Francisco, there are men's choirs
They sing me to the ocean, to escape Hell's fire
And at the water, I took off my boot
Placed my son inside, to ride upon the ocean until they find the truth
I will wear the Denver boot
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