Finding The Future (Thanks Mr. T)

I've lost it
Found it
Packaged it
Time and again
Till it got worn
Tattered
Like good jeans
On bad days

Just the thought
Of facing it
Sends shivers
and chills in a blind array
Across and through my body

Quebec winds
Blowing fierce
Across the Plains of Abraham
Give me my
Old insulated boots
Before I go to sleep tonight
My flashlight
And a good map
Nothing will stop me
If I've got those things.