A Song About Plaid Shoes

Plaid Shoes,
Plaid Shoes,
I love to wear my plaid shoes
I can’t be mad when I’m in plaid shoes
My mood grows higher, my feet don’t perspire
‘Cause I’m in plaid shoes.

Polka-dotted slippers are just fine
My red patent leather cowboy boots--divine.
Paisley loafers, I really go-fer,
But they can’t hold a candle to my

Plaid shoes,
Plaid shoes,
Wearing them I can’t lose
See the story in the news
“Crazy lady does refuse
to give up wearing plaid shoes.”

I wear them wandering and wobbling,
Take them in for periodic cobbling
My podiatrist, psychiatrist and friends,
We just cannot make amends
‘Cause I tie my laces, and see their faces,
Disapproving looks about my

Plaid shoes,
Plaid Shoes,
My friends and loved ones, they abuse
But I see right through their ruse
They all want to get their hands on,
Their metatarsal glands on. . . My plaid shoes

The arch supports,
I must report—
They keep me moving
My racing times, they keep improving,
Whenever I wear my

Plaid Shoes,
Plaid Shoes,
Other shoes I may peruse,
In shades of greys and browns and blacks and blues,
But in the pews or at the zoo,
Making stew or pitching woo,
From heel to toe I can’t confuse
The love I have for. . . my plaid shoes!