Still have that worn out glove in the back of the closet
The one my dad gave to me when I turned 13
He said he'd teach me how to throw that 12-6 curve ball
Just like all the pros we watched on TV
Senior year my brother went off to college
Pops gave me the talk and handed my first set of keys
To a bucket of rust, a little beaten up
Thought it would break down every mile
But somehow it always got from A to B

Those hand me downs
Didn't mean much back then
They sure do now
All the memories that I couldn't live without
Are still hanging around
Those hand me downs

All the finer records sitting up in the attic
From Cash and Merle to Patti and Bruce Springsteen
I can still hear our voices cutting through the static
On those long car ride from Boston to Tennessee

Those hand me downs
Didn't mean much back then
They sure do now
All the memories that I couldn't live without
Are still hanging around
Those hand me downs
Those hand me downs
Oh

His laugh, his grin, his stubbornness
And when to give a damn
All the lessons learned that made me who I am

Those hand me downs
Didn't mean much back then
They sure do now
All the memories that I couldn't live without
Are still hanging around
Those hand me downs
Those hand me downs
Oh