Meet Mr. Roger pictured above, kicking back in a chair. Mr. Roger is having trouble finding his “true hat”. A true hat is a hat that he could sleep in and feel cozy all night. A hat that will make him feel complete. A hat that’s even better than a slice of buttered up toast with triple cream brie on the side for breakfast.
Anyway here’s a hat ballad for you:
Where are you my hat?
I’d like to have a chat,
And give you a pat.
I’d sooner find a cat,
Or some dirty old mat,
With a hole and a rat.
I’d just fall flat,
Or get into a spat,
With a burly muskrat.
I’d search and scour,
And feel so sour,
At every hour.
The days will pass,
Staring through glass,
As I let out some gas,
And imagine catching a bass.
There is no hope for me,
Despite my passionate plea,
And a cup of black tea.
I feel like I’m stuck at sea,
With an annoying flea,
On a raft filled with debris,
Wishing I was a pine tree.
The search goes on,
Starting from dawn,
Until I stumble thereupon,
My true hat woebegone.
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