I was in the basement just the other day
Gathering up old stuff that we could give away
Among the junk I found a piece of me I love
When I picked up my old baseball glove

It may seem silly but its more than leather and stitches
It holds for me lost treasure, value and riches
So many memories of people and of places
So many years that it instantly erases

My old glove, it’s me- I’m hidden in there somewhere that’s kind of hard to see
My old glove, you may not understand, somewhere in that leather is the child
That’s now a man

It caught my grandpa’s throws when he was still alive
And my son’s first toss back in 1995
All those games of catch in the park with my dad
Were some of the very best times that I’ve ever had

The leather in that glove has cracked and split with age
It reminds me of the lines that now appear on my own face
But its spirit never fades, to hope it still clings
As I try to rediscover that old field of dreams

My old glove, it’s me- I’m hidden in there somewhere that’s kind of hard to see
My old glove, you may not understand, somewhere in that leather is the child
That’s now a man

I don’t know exactly what happened to the years
Seems I blinked and somehow they just disappeared
Its been forever since I slipped my hand in that old thing
But I will never forget the kind of joy it used to bring

My old glove, it’s me- I’m hidden in there somewhere that’s kind of hard to see
My old glove, you may not understand, somewhere in that leather is the child
That’s still inside the man