Mud on My Good Boots

[Intro — stomping acoustic guitar, fiddle, boot-claps] Mama said, Wear something nice. So I did. That was mistake number one. [Verse 1] Put my favorite blue jeans on, White blouse Mama says looks sweet, Brushed the tangles from my hair And wore my good boots on my feet. Daddy said, Now keep 'em clean. I said, Daddy, course I will. Then somebody said, Bonfire, Somebody else said, Up the hill. Well, the road was dry at seven. Then Vermont changed her mind. By eight-fifteen the rain came down And left good judgment far behind. [Pre-Chorus] First puddle, I went 'round it. Second one, I made the leap. Third one— Well... That one looked shallow. That puddle was three bloody feet deep! [Chorus] I got mud on my good boots! Mud halfway to my knees! Got leaves stuck in my green hair And a rip nobody better see! Mama's gonna shake her head. Daddy's gonna want the truth. And the truth is I had one good pair— Now I got mud on my good boots! Hey! Mud on my good boots! [Verse 2 — fiddle gets faster] Then the Hendersons' old pickup Got itself stuck by the creek, And everybody stood around it Giving wisdom no one needs. Rock it back! Turn the wheel! Put some branches underneath! I said, Could ya all stop talking And just bloody well help me? So we pushed it. Tires spun. Brown water flew about. And when that truck came roaring free, Guess who was standing where it got out? [Chloe, spoken] Yep. Me. Head to toe. [Chorus] I got mud on my good boots! Mud everywhere I own! Got a stripe across my forehead And something squishing in my toes! Could've stayed beside the bonfire. Could've kept 'em shiny too. But where's the fun in owning boots If ya can't get mud on— Me boots! [music hiccups] ...my boots. [brief pause] Why did I say it like that? [someone laughing] Say what like what? [Chloe] Nothin'. [fiddle kicks back in] MY good boots! [Verse 3] Now we're dancing by the fire, Someone's radio turned high, And there's steam coming off our jackets Underneath an October sky. My blouse ain't white no longer. My jeans have seen better days. And those boots Daddy bought in Burlington May never be the same. But there's cider making rounds, And somebody starts a song. I know I'm gonna hear about this, But I can't say that I'm wrong. [Bridge — fiddle drops; warm acoustic guitar] There's probably girls somewhere tonight Keeping every buckle bright, Sitting somewhere warm and tidy, Doing everything just right. And good for them. Truly. But that ain't much like me. Give me rain and hills and horses, Give me somewhere I can be— [slight hesitation] With mud upon me boots— [pause] There it is again. Huh. [quiet laugh] Well... Maybe I like it. [drums kick back in] [Final Chorus — full band, faster] I got mud on me good boots! Mud halfway up me jeans! Got October in me green hair, And I'm happier than clean! Mama's gonna shake her head! Daddy'll give me that look too! But I'll take one night worth remembering Over spotless leather shoes! Yeah, mud on me good boots! Child— [tiny startled pause] ...what? [beat] Anyway! Mud on me good boots! Let Vermont rain come through! If tomorrow needs a perfect girl, She'll have to borrow someone new! Tonight I'm sixteen, soaked and laughing, With absolutely no excuse— Except a little rain, A great big hill, And mud— On me— Good— BOOTS! [Outro — fiddle, stomps, laughter] [Mama] Chloe Quinn. [Chloe] Before ya say anything— They'll clean up. [Daddy] Those were eighty-dollar boots. [Chloe] And now they've got character. [Daddy] They've got half of Vermont on 'em. [Chloe] See? Local character.