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Welcome to the Just Plain Folks forums! You are currently viewing our forums as a Guest which gives you limited access to most of our discussions and to other features.
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Toxic
by Rob B. - 10/04/26 02:16 PM
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Afro Pop
by Raymond Byabazaire - 10/01/26 12:39 PM
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Afro Pop
by Raymond Byabazaire - 10/01/26 12:38 PM
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Gone
by Michael W. Brown - 09/30/26 07:17 PM
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Mara Cole
by Gary E. Andrews - 09/30/26 01:32 PM
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Joined: Sep 2019
Posts: 220 Likes: 3
Serious Contributor
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OP
Serious Contributor
Joined: Sep 2019
Posts: 220 Likes: 3 |
https://suno.com/s/dBZ77XrNEGXED0BEA rework of our song “Every hat has a story”. Underneath the cap A weathered farmer at the counter, Spreading jelly on his bread. Ground-in dirt across his overalls, John Deere cap on his head. Tractor grease prints on the brim, Sun-faded green and well worn. The patch up front curled at the edge, From a lifetime raising corn. Each cap tells a story, About the one who has it on. A silent reflection, Of times now come and gone. Little pieces of history, A roadmap looking back. Written by the modest man, Underneath the cap! By the farmer sits a younger man, a black cap on his head, On the front, the Army emblem, stitched with golden thread. sweat stains on the brim, his purple heart pinned to the side, Worn by a decorated veteran, who bravely served with pride. Each cap tells a story, About the one who has it on. A silent reflection, Of times now come and gone. Little pieces of history, A roadmap looking back. Written by the modest man, Underneath the cap! A young man stands behind the counter, Yankees ball cap turned 'round. His number written underneath the brim, Field dirt still on the crown. But a bad knee made the call for him, His body keeping score. One final swing in the World Series Back in twenty twenty-four As they finished eating and got ready to pay, The young man said "your moneys no good here, not in my cafe". He nodded to the farmer, “Grandpa, I’ll see you later on tonight.” Then he walked toward the veteran. [Pause / Vocal swell] Who was quietly sitting there, And HUGGED his father gently As he rose up from his chair. It's just another morning, just another day, When three generations meet at the Home Run Café. Each cap tells a story, About the one who has it on. A silent reflection, Of times now come and gone.
Last edited by CTthomas; 09/22/26 03:44 AM.
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