I still have that worn out glove in the back of the closetThe one my dad gave to me when I turned 13He said he'd teach me how to throw that 12-6 curveballJust like all the pros we watched on TVSenior year my brother went off to collegePops gave me the talk and handed my first set of keysTo a bucket of rust and a little bit of dustStill beatin' up, thought he would break down every mileBut somehow it always got from A to BThose hand-me-downsDidn't mean much back then, they sure do nowAll the memories that I couldn't live withoutAre still hangin' aroundThose hand-me-downsThose hand-me-downsAll the vinyl records sittin' up in the atticFrom Cash and Merle to Petty and Bruce SpringsteenI can still hear our voices cuttin' through the staticOn those long car rides from Boston to TennesseeThose hand-me-downsDidn't mean much back then, they sure do nowAll the memories that I couldn't live withoutAre still hangin' aroundThose hand-me-downsThose hand-me-downsThose hand-me-downsHis laugh, his grin, his stubbornnessAnd when to give a damnAll the lessons learned that made me who I amThose hand-me-downsDidn't mean much back then, they sure do nowAll the memories that I couldn't live withoutAre still hangin' aroundThose hand-me-downsThose hand-me-downsOhThose hand-me-downsThose hand-me-downs