Luyện nghe bài hát Tackle Box

It was two of brown, scratched up plastic
It held extra line, lures, and matches
And his last engraved in brass
there by the handle on the top

I'd it out of the back of his station wagon
Lug it down the with my arm draggin'
And I hardly wait for him
To the lid on that tackle box

'Cause I'd with him across the South Pacific
Stand beside him on the bow of battleship
See him kiss the ground and thank the good Jesus
And watch him run to grandma cryin' on the
He up, every time he opened up that old tackle box

He'd bait my hook and keep on stories
About cokes, girls and sandlot glories
Pickup trucks and fields
Long before town knew blacktop

I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down dirt roads
Takin' on a jug of homemade shine
As he his buddies down through Mason Holler
Fillin' the sky dust and kicked up rocks
He opened up, every time he opened up that old box

He's been twenty years tomorrow
And I'm holdin' on to this one wish
God above can let me borrow grandpa
For one more afternoon and one more

And I'd with him across the South Pacific
Stand beside him on the bow of that
See him the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus
And watch him run to grandma cryin' on the
He'd open up, every he opened up that old tackle box
Yeah, I sure loved, every time he up that old tackle box

It was two shades of brown, scratched up