[Verse 1]
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It was two shades of brown, scratched-up plastic.
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It held extra line, lures, hooks, and matches.
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And his last name engraved in black,
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Right there by the handle on the top.
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I'd slide it out of the back of his station wagon.
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Lug it down the bank with my arm draggin'.
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And I could hardly wait for him
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To lift the lid on that tackle box.
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[Chorus 1]
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'Cause I'd sail with him across the South Pacific.
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Stand beside him on the bow of that battleship.
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See him kiss the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus.
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And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock.
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He opened up, every time he opened up
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That old tackle box.
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[Verse 2]
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He'd bait my hook and keep on tellin' stories
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'Bout nickel Cokes, girls, and sandlot glories.
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Pickup trucks and golden fields
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Long before this town knew blacktop.
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[Chorus 2]
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I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down those dirt roads
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Takin' turns on a jug of homemade shine
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As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler
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Fillin' the sky with dust and kicked up rocks
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He opened up, every time he opened up
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That old tackle box.
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He's been gone twenty years tomorrow
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And I'm still holdin' on to one wish
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That God above could let me borrow Grandpa
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For one more afternoon and one more fish.
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[Chorus 1]
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And I'd sail with him across the South Pacific.
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Stand beside him on the bow of that battleship.
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See him kiss the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus.
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And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock.
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He'd open up, every time he opened up
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That old tackle box.
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Everything he loved he kept locked up in that old tackle box.
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It was two shades of brown scratched up plastic.
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Tackle Box
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| Luke Bryan |
