MUSIC FOR SALE

Sittin’ on the porch at the end of the day,
Watchin’ the sunset fade all away.
Rockin’ slow in his old wood chair,
Wish Grandpa was sitting right there.


His hat still hangs where he left it last,
A little bit worn, but was built to last.
Faded brown with a brim so wide,
Kept the sun out of his weary eyes.


Grandpa’s hat still hangs up high,
A little bit torn, don't know why.
It holds his heart, it holds his ways,
The kind of man, means what he says.
It reminds me to stand up strong,
Do what’s right, admit my wrong.
Though he’s gone, I ain’t lost track,
‘Cause Grandpa’s hat still brings him back.


He taught me love, taught me to ride,
To shake a hand and stand with pride.
Said a good man’s worth ain’t in his gold,
But in the stories that he’s told.


When life gets rough and times get tight,
I hear his voice say, Boy, hold on tight.
I tip that hat, I walk his way,
Try to live right every day.


Grandpa’s hat still hangs up high,
A little torn, don't know why.
It holds his heart, it holds his ways,
The kind of man, means where he says.
It reminds me to stand up strong,
Do what’s right, admit my wrong.
Though he’s gone, I ain’t lost track,
‘Cause Grandpa’s hat still brings him back.


So I leave it there, just like before,
A memory hangin’ by the door.
And every time I see that brim,
I know a part of him’s still within.