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Only My Shoes Grew Old

Song Title: Only My Shoes Grew Old

Author / Artist: Louis Nichole

Master Website:: http://www.louisnichole.com

Copyright: 2007

Music Genre: Adult Contemporary / Inspirational / Country

Listen to a sample clip:

In a closet of time…

There are clothes that are mine, out of fashion

And  every lapel

Has a tale they to tell …of the passion

 When I set ocean’s on fire

Rode waves that were higher.. than sky

Every door was wide open

 I dreamed of hoping to fly

When I.. was young and bold

Only my shoes grew old

My hair has turned gray …

Some say I’m on my way….to meet  my master

But there are blondes in my head

That  still dance on my bed

Don’t need a pastor

For there are women to wine

And kisses of mine…. to deliver

Perfume on a breeze

Can still make my knees…. quiver

 Someone to have and  hold

Only my shoes grew old

Something within me

Like a fire ‘neath  the  chimney… that won’t  stop burning

 The thrill of a new day….  a new dawn

Still lets my world ….go on turning

Watch me   race down  that  runway

 I’ll know that someday

 When Goodwill takes all my clothes away

My closet will say

These are the clothes of a  man  who  loved too much

 So many smiles….so many souls he touched

And so it  goes… the tale my clothes…. have told

Only my shoes grew old

Only my shoes grew old

Songwriting Inspiration:

I moved home from NYC after 25 years to take care of my a dad who now had stage 4 Alzheimers. He became very combative  because the doctors gave him an overdose of Adavan.

I realized my mom couldn’t take care of him any longer at 86. They put my dad in a locked Psych unit at the Masonic in Wallingford, something I would not wish on any human being.

They asked us to bring in old clothes that he would never use again, because they would get torn and battered. So the next day my mother brings a doubleknit polyester liesure suit from the 70’s, a madras shirt from the 60’s , a pineapple and palm tree Hawiaan shirt… probably from the 50’s and a white shirt from my sister’s weding in the 80’s.

They sedated my dad  so that he sat all day with his head hung to his chest As I sat there staring at my father  in a wheel chair and his closet of clothes behind him… I heard his clothes wrote this song.

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