| Song | Tackle Box |
| Artist | Luke Bryan |
| Album | I'll Stay Me |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| [00:00.00] | 作曲 : Bryan, Doyle |
| [00:13.65] | It was two shades of brown and scratched up plastic. |
| [00:18.90] | It held extra line, lures, hooks, and matches. |
| [00:25.33] | With his last name engraved in brass, |
| [00:28.58] | Right there by the handle on the top. |
| [00:34.71] | I'd slide it out of the back of his station wagon. |
| [00:43.90] | Lug it down the bank with my arm draggin'. |
| [00:49.83] | I could hardly wait for him |
| [00:54.58] | To lift the lid on that tackle box. |
| [00:58.83] | Cause I'd sail with him across the South Pacific. |
| [01:01.77] | Stand beside him on the bow of that battle ship. |
| [01:11.02] | See him kiss the ground and thank the Good Lord Jesus. |
| [01:17.02] | And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock. |
| [01:22.52] | He opened up, every time he opened up |
| [01:28.08] | That ole tackle box. |
| [01:35.58] | He'd bait my hook and keep on tellin' stories |
| [01:41.39] | About nickel Cokes, girls, and sandlot glories. |
| [01:44.51] | Pickup trucks and golden fields |
| [01:47.96] | Long before this town knew blacktop. |
| [01:51.01] | I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down those dirt roads |
| [01:57.64] | Takin' turns on a jug of homemade shine |
| [02:00.89] | |
| [02:08.88] | As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler |
| [02:15.38] | Fillin' the sky with dust and kicked up rocks |
| [02:21.00] | He opened up every time he opened up |
| [02:26.15] | That ole tackle box. |
| [02:30.64] | He's been gone twenty years tomorrow |
| [02:36.83] | But I'm still holdin' on to one more wish |
| [02:42.96] | That God above would let be borrow Grandpa |
| [02:48.90] | For one more afternoon and one more fish. |
| [02:59.46] | Cause I'd sail with across the South Pacific. |
| [03:05.14] | Stand beside him on the bow of that battle ship. |
| [03:11.46] | See him kiss the ground and thank the Good Lord Jesus. |
| [03:17.08] | And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock. |
| [03:21.52] | He opened up, every time he opened up |
| [03:28.83] | That ole tackle box. |
| [03:32.20] | Everything he loved, he kept locked up |
| [03:39.64] | In that ole tackle box. |
| [03:47.08] | It was two shades of brown and scratched up plastic. |
| [00:00.00] | zuo qu : Bryan, Doyle |
| [00:13.65] | It was two shades of brown and scratched up plastic. |
| [00:18.90] | It held extra line, lures, hooks, and matches. |
| [00:25.33] | With his last name engraved in brass, |
| [00:28.58] | Right there by the handle on the top. |
| [00:34.71] | I' d slide it out of the back of his station wagon. |
| [00:43.90] | Lug it down the bank with my arm draggin'. |
| [00:49.83] | I could hardly wait for him |
| [00:54.58] | To lift the lid on that tackle box. |
| [00:58.83] | Cause I' d sail with him across the South Pacific. |
| [01:01.77] | Stand beside him on the bow of that battle ship. |
| [01:11.02] | See him kiss the ground and thank the Good Lord Jesus. |
| [01:17.02] | And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock. |
| [01:22.52] | He opened up, every time he opened up |
| [01:28.08] | That ole tackle box. |
| [01:35.58] | He' d bait my hook and keep on tellin' stories |
| [01:41.39] | About nickel Cokes, girls, and sandlot glories. |
| [01:44.51] | Pickup trucks and golden fields |
| [01:47.96] | Long before this town knew blacktop. |
| [01:51.01] | I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down those dirt roads |
| [01:57.64] | Takin' turns on a jug of homemade shine |
| [02:00.89] | |
| [02:08.88] | As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler |
| [02:15.38] | Fillin' the sky with dust and kicked up rocks |
| [02:21.00] | He opened up every time he opened up |
| [02:26.15] | That ole tackle box. |
| [02:30.64] | He' s been gone twenty years tomorrow |
| [02:36.83] | But I' m still holdin' on to one more wish |
| [02:42.96] | That God above would let be borrow Grandpa |
| [02:48.90] | For one more afternoon and one more fish. |
| [02:59.46] | Cause I' d sail with across the South Pacific. |
| [03:05.14] | Stand beside him on the bow of that battle ship. |
| [03:11.46] | See him kiss the ground and thank the Good Lord Jesus. |
| [03:17.08] | And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock. |
| [03:21.52] | He opened up, every time he opened up |
| [03:28.83] | That ole tackle box. |
| [03:32.20] | Everything he loved, he kept locked up |
| [03:39.64] | In that ole tackle box. |
| [03:47.08] | It was two shades of brown and scratched up plastic. |
| [00:00.00] | zuò qǔ : Bryan, Doyle |
| [00:13.65] | It was two shades of brown and scratched up plastic. |
| [00:18.90] | It held extra line, lures, hooks, and matches. |
| [00:25.33] | With his last name engraved in brass, |
| [00:28.58] | Right there by the handle on the top. |
| [00:34.71] | I' d slide it out of the back of his station wagon. |
| [00:43.90] | Lug it down the bank with my arm draggin'. |
| [00:49.83] | I could hardly wait for him |
| [00:54.58] | To lift the lid on that tackle box. |
| [00:58.83] | Cause I' d sail with him across the South Pacific. |
| [01:01.77] | Stand beside him on the bow of that battle ship. |
| [01:11.02] | See him kiss the ground and thank the Good Lord Jesus. |
| [01:17.02] | And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock. |
| [01:22.52] | He opened up, every time he opened up |
| [01:28.08] | That ole tackle box. |
| [01:35.58] | He' d bait my hook and keep on tellin' stories |
| [01:41.39] | About nickel Cokes, girls, and sandlot glories. |
| [01:44.51] | Pickup trucks and golden fields |
| [01:47.96] | Long before this town knew blacktop. |
| [01:51.01] | I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down those dirt roads |
| [01:57.64] | Takin' turns on a jug of homemade shine |
| [02:00.89] | |
| [02:08.88] | As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler |
| [02:15.38] | Fillin' the sky with dust and kicked up rocks |
| [02:21.00] | He opened up every time he opened up |
| [02:26.15] | That ole tackle box. |
| [02:30.64] | He' s been gone twenty years tomorrow |
| [02:36.83] | But I' m still holdin' on to one more wish |
| [02:42.96] | That God above would let be borrow Grandpa |
| [02:48.90] | For one more afternoon and one more fish. |
| [02:59.46] | Cause I' d sail with across the South Pacific. |
| [03:05.14] | Stand beside him on the bow of that battle ship. |
| [03:11.46] | See him kiss the ground and thank the Good Lord Jesus. |
| [03:17.08] | And watch him run to Grandma, cryin' on the dock. |
| [03:21.52] | He opened up, every time he opened up |
| [03:28.83] | That ole tackle box. |
| [03:32.20] | Everything he loved, he kept locked up |
| [03:39.64] | In that ole tackle box. |
| [03:47.08] | It was two shades of brown and scratched up plastic. |