Miles Laroque - The Man in the Gray Felt Hat

He asked for light, then stayed a while.His voice — always kind, always style.He spoke of Paris, jazz, and fate,then left the gate.I don’t know his name, nor where he’s gone,but some goodbyes just linger on.He tipped his hat and disappeared —as I had feared, not every love is built to last.Some pass too fast.But I still dream of where he’s at —the man in the great felt hat.I don’t know his name, nor where he’s gone,but some goodbyes just linger on.He tipped his hat and disappeared —as I had feared.Not every love is built to last,some pass too fast.But I still dream of where he’s at —the man in the great felt hat.