In These Shoes? (Homage to Kirsty MacColl)

Introduction

We are again straying into the area of plagiarism. The title and the basic idea are borrowed from the late Kirsty MacColl, a singer-songwriter with a delightful sense of humour.

A young man is trying very hard to be romantic, but his words are falling on stony ground.

In These Shoes? (Homage to Kirsty MacColl)

He said:
Come with me to the top of the mountain.
We'll watch the sun rise over the sea.
We'll stroll to the valley in the first rays of dawn,
And the birds will sing just for you and me.

She said:
In these shoes? You're kidding, chum.
I walk for twenty yards and my toes go numb.
The skin on my insteps is getting sore,
And these stupid straps have rubbed my heels all raw.

He said:
Come with me to the old Alhambra.
We'll sip sangria in the cool of the night.
We'll dance on the terraces under the trees,
Then sit beneath the stars and watch for the light.

She said:
In these shoes? You're joking, mate.
I drink a half of lager and I can't walk straight.
I reckon it's time I hit the sack.
Do me a favour. Get off my back.

He said:
Come with me to the edge of the ocean.
We'll count the waves as they break on the strand.
We'll watch as the dawn appears in the east,
Then stroll through the sand dunes hand in hand.

She said:
In these shoes? I've had enough.
I can't put up with any more of this stuff.
If I were you, I'd just save my breath.
With shoes like these you bore me to death.