When I became a Master Mason, I was proud as I could be.
My father did the raising and was just as proud as me.
When he gave me the secret word, he knew what he had done.
He had filled the goal of many men, the raising of a son.
When I started through the chairs, he was always on the side.
He watched me rise to master, I saw him fill with pride.
When I took the oath of master, I knew his pride increased.
He stood up on the sidelines, and then approached the East.
As he walked across the lodge room, a box was at his side.
He gave a speech he wrote himself. His eyes were glazed and wide.
He was not a public speaker, but he stood where all could see.
And no man stood as tall as he, when he gave that box to me.
I took the wrapping off that box, and there I saw inside.
A top hat he had bought himself, and now I filled with pride.
All year long I wore that hat, he would often smile and grin.
And now it sits upon a shelf, in the box that it came in.
Each time I take it out to look, I think about that day.
I feel he's somehow here today, in a special kind of way.
He was proud to be a Mason, he was what we're all about.
The brother on the sidelines, that we can't do without.
