Luke Bryan
Luke Bryan - Tackle Box lyrics
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It was two shades of brown, scratched-up plastic It held extra line, lures, hooks and matches And his last name engraved in black Right there by the handle on the top I'd slide it out of the back of his station wagon Lug it down the bank with my arm dragging And I could hardly wait for him To lift the lid on that tackle box 'Cause I'd sail with him across the South Pacific Stand beside him on the bow of that battleship See him kiss the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus And watch him run to Grandma, crying on the dock He opened up, every time he opened up That old tackle box He'd bait my hook and keep on telling stories 'Bout nickel Cokes, girls and sandlot glories Pickup trucks and golden fields Long before this town knew blacktop I was almost riding with him shotgun down those dirt roads Taking turns on a jug of homemade shine As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler Filling the sky with dust and kicked up rocks He opened up, every time he opened up That old tackle box He's been gone twenty years tomorrow And I'm still holding on this one wish That God above could let me borrow Grandpa For one more afternoon and one more fish And I'd sail with him across the South Pacific Stand beside him on the bow of that battleship See him kiss the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus And watch him run to Grandma, crying on the dock He'd open up, every time he opened up That old tackle box Yeah, I should love every time he opened up That old tackle box It was two shades of brown scratched up plastic