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What Makes You Country

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    Here's To The Farmer

    Luke Bryan Top 15 Songs
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    That's My Kind Of Night
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    Tackle Box
    Song Lyrics

    
    
    It was two shades of brown and 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 draggin'
    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 battle ship
    See him kiss the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus
    And watch him run to grandma, cryin' on the dock
    He opened up, every time he opened up
    That old tackle box
    He'd bait my hook and keep on tellin' stories
    'Bout nickel cokes, girls, and sandlot glories
    Pickup trucks and peanut fields
    Long before this town knew blacktop
    I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down those dirt roads
    Takin' turns on a jug of homemade shine
    As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler
    Fillin' 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 holdin' on to this one wish
    That God above would 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 battle ship
    See him kiss the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus
    And watch him run to grandma, cryin' on the dock 
    He opened up, every time he opened up
    That old tackle box
    Yeah, sure I love
    Every time he opened up
    That old tackle box
    
    
     Songwriters: Joe Doyle / Luke Bryan
    Tackle Box lyrics © BMG Rights Management US, LLC