From The San Francisco Call, April 20, 1913. By Lester J. Skidmore. Farewell, old shoes! Though greatly I’ve abused you, I really get the blues To think I have to lose you. You’ve been a friend And joy to me; And now we must Part company. Yes, from the day I purchased you, You’ve never pinched like Some shoes do. Just like a glove You’ve fit my feet, And you were ever— Ever neat. You were quite dressy In your day, And on the street cut Quite a sway. And when your shape And beauty, too, Which I once prized, Deserted you, I clung to you most Faithfully, For you had been So kind to me. So many miles You’ve led the way And held your own, too, Day by day. A man’s best friend, None can deny. It breaks my heart To say goodbye. Farewell, old shoes! Though greatly I’ve abused you, I really get the blues To think I have to lose you.