Luyện nghe bài hát Tackle Box

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

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

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

He'd my hook and keep on tellin' stories
About nickel cokes, and sandlot glories
trucks and peanut fields
Long before this town blacktop

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

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

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

It was two shades of brown, up plastic