The old hat is pulled down near his eyes.
A hat that’s so much bigger than his size.
It’s so worn and old with age,
Yet with it he plays upon his stage.
He carried out his act throughout the days.
The actions not yet matching his young gaze.
Now the hat stays on its hook upon the wall,
Still waiting there to answer its next call.
Though the young boy has grown up now,
Perhaps sometime he’ll show his young son how,
He wore that hat to play throughout the days,
The actions not yet matching his young gaze.
One day again the hat will rest upon the hook,
And one day a man will bring his son to look,
At the old hat he wore to play,
Every single day,
Now waiting on the hook, upon the wall.

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