Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Звук


Интерфейс


Уровень сложности


Акцент



язык интерфейса

ru

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
зарегистрироваться / войти
Lyrkit

донат

5$

Lyrkit

донат

10$

Lyrkit

донат

20$

Lyrkit

Или поддержи меня в соц. сетях:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Luke Bryan

Tackle Box

 

Tackle Box

(альбом: I'll Stay Me - 2007)


[Verse 1]

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.

[Chorus 1]

'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.

[Verse 2]

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.

[Chorus 2]

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 to one wish
That God above could let me borrow Grandpa
For one more afternoon and one more fish.

[Chorus 1]

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.

Everything he loved he kept locked up in that old tackle box.

It was two shades of brown scratched up plastic.

готово

Ты добавил себе все незнакомые слова из этой песни?