I saw her turn her head In a drop-dead gaze She was peekin' out over the
top Of those wire-rim shades Now it wasn't my charm And it wasn't my
grin That had that little secretary Dialed right in She wasn't lookin'
at me, man she was lookin' at my feet
[Chorus:]
It's these
twenty-two hundred And twenty-five dollar Pair o' handmade genuine
fine Horned-back kicks With a seven-row stitch And a three dollar
sidewalk shine Yeah they're made to fit and they're hard to find Make
a pretty woman look down each time
I got the baddest boots on the
boulevard Yeah the baddest boots on the boulevard
They were made by a
little man Down in El Paso I was passin' though town Singin' at the
rodeo
He said 'they cost a little more But for what it's
worth There ain't another pair like 'em on god's green earth' Then I
handed him my money And he sized me up
[Chorus]
I got the
baddest boots on the boulevard Yeah, the Baddest boots on the
boulevard When I pull 'em on I start singin' a song Make me wanna tuck my
britches leg's inside 'em Lets take a stroll