songs about hats.

The Bus Depot

I wore a red cap one day

Left it at the bus stop

I wonder about it still

Did someone pick it up?

Was it worn with the

Same sort of reverence

I once wore it with?

Was it worn at all?

Was it thrown into the trash bin?

The one stooping outside the bus depot.

Was it taken to a second hand store?

Was it cleaned and given as a gift?

Or is it still sitting there?

Just over in the corner,

Gathering dust

Never to be noticed

Never to be worn again

Next time I am in Prince George

I will have to go to that bus stop

Perhaps I will find my hat.

Hat Haiku

I had that hat once,

Was a gift for my mother,

I want it back, please

Another Hat

This hat is not worth the trouble

Of picking a fight with you

This hat is draining my energy

And all I’ve done is fight with you

This hat can’t hide the secret

I’m having a hard time, too

This hat is not worth the trouble

Of picking a fight with you

Stranger in My Hat

I apologize for my resilience

But I know where you found that hat

It was sitting in the bus station

I came all the way to this city

Just to track down that hat

Came 300 miles, I did

Just to find a rat

Wearing my mothers hat

Now I’m not trying to start an argument

As you seem to consistently insist

If you look at it from my angle, man

It is as easy, as simple as this

That hat does not belong to you

It doesn’t suit your hair do

I came all the way here just to

Track down that hat for my mother

I’m not saying you took it on purpose

I agree, it’s a beautiful hat

If I had found that in the bus station

There is no way I’d ever give it back

But you must understand, good sir

I’ve traveled this land, to be sure

To find that dear hat

And take it back

Not to be a bother

For it is a gift for my mother

Now give me the damned hat back!

Recapture of the Hat

He threw me the hat

With a phrase to the effect

Of a statement of fact

He purchased the hat

But he left it at that

And ran out of the station

In fear

Sonnet of my Hat

What a wonderful red cap

I must put it on my head

Like applause the thunder clapped

As I pulled a loose thread

I feel like my life has worth

I should relax and call my mother

She gave me this like my birth

And I will wear no other

I must use the payphone in the lobby

And tell her I have finally found the hat

Chasing people down is not my hobby

But it was still something at that

I will use the silver payphone

And call my mother at home

Final Chapter

I reached the phone

With a quarter in my hand

I pulled my hand

To call my mother at home

With a quarter in my hand

I was hoping to find my mom

To call my mother at home

Back in the East Vancouver slum

I was hoping to find my mom

To talk to her again

In that East Vancouver slum

So she could be my friend

To talk to her again

Moving forward with my world

So she could be my friend

My oldest love, my girl

Moving forward to the world

With a quarter in my hand

My oldest love, my girl

To call my mother at home