Tackle Box

       D
It was two shades of brown and 
scratched up plastic.
        G
It held extra line, lures, hooks, 
and matches.
     A
With his last name engraved in 
black,
G                              
Right there by the handle on the 
      D
top.
    D
I'd slide it out of the back of his 
station wagon.
G
Lug it down the bank with my arm 
draggin'.
A
I could hardly wait for him
   G                             D
To lift the lid on that tackle box.

[Chorus 1]
          G                        
Cause I'd sail with across the 
      D
South Pacific.
       A                           
Stand beside him on the bow of that
             D
 battle ship.
        G                        
See him kiss the ground and thank 
                D
the Good Lord Jesus.
               A                   
And watch him run to Grandma, 
           Bm
cryin' on the dock.
   A        Em          D/F# G
He opened up, every time he opened 
up
A                   D
That ole tackle box.

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[Verse 2]
     D
He'd bait my hook and keep on 
tellin' stories
      G
About nickel Cokes, girls, and 
sandlot glories.
A
Pickup trucks and peanut fields
G                                 D
Long before this town knew blacktop.

[Chorus 2]
               G                   
I was almost ridin' with him 
                       D
shotgun down those dirt roads
A                                 
Takin' turns on a jug of homemade 
   D
shine
         G                         
As he raced his buddies down 
           D
through Mason Holler
A                                 
Fillin' the sky with dust and 
       Bm
kicked up rocks
   A       Em           D/F#  G
He opened up every time he opened up
A                  D
That ole tackle box.

[Bridge]
Bm                               G
He's been gone twenty years tomorrow
    D                              
But I'm still holdin' on to one 
    A  (Bb)
more wish
     Bm                            
That God above would let be borrow 
G
Grandpa
    D                 G           
For one more afternoon and one 
  A
more fish.

[Chorus 1]
          G                        
Cause I'd sail with across the 
      D
South Pacific.
         A                         
Stand beside him on the bow of that
          D
 battle ship.
         G                       
See him kiss the ground and thank 
                D
the Good Lord Jesus.
               A                   
And watch him run to Grandma, 
          Bm
cryin' on the dock.
   A       Em           D/F#  G
He opened up, every time he opened 
up
A                D
That ole tackle box.

[Otro]
                 Em     D/F#     
Everything he loved, he kept locked 
G
up
    A             D
In that ole tackle box.

       D
It was two shades of brown and 
scratched up plastic.