Hats

A poem about life, really.

“Every hat’s got a story to tell as it’s hanging on my door.

I said, every hat’s got a story to tell as it’s hanging on my door.

And, though I miss them good ole’ days, I’ll throw that old ball cap on

and make a few more.

Times we laughed and times we cried. And times I’m never gonna forget.

Times we laughed and times we cried. Times I don’t even want to think about it.

No matter what happened. I throw that ole’ ball cap on

and it’s still a perfect fit.

If I found my hat out on the street, I’d know it was it mine just by the smell.

If I found my hat out on the street, I’d know it was mine just by the smell.

Smells like sweat, spice, and cologne, and a little bit of where I’ve come from as well.

Every hat’s got a story to tell as it’s hanging on my door.

I said, every hat’s got a story to tell as it’s hanging on my door.

And, though I miss them good ole’ days, I’ll throw that old ball cap on

and make a few more.”

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