Luke Bryan
Tackle Box

Capo 1


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


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 golden fields
G 	  	  	  	  D
Long before this town knew blacktop.


Chorus 2
 	       G 	  	  	  	          D
I was almost ridin' with him shotgun down those dirt roads
A 	  	  	  	     D
Takin' turns on a jug of homemade shine
 	 G 	  	  	  	      D
As he raced his buddies down through Mason Holler
A 	  	  	  	  	 Bm
Fillin' the sky with dust and kicked up rocks
 	   Em               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 	  	  	  	       A
But I'm still holdin' on to one more wish
     Bm                            G
That God above would let be borrow Grandpa
    D                 G             A
For one more afternoon and one more fish.


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



Outro
 	  	 Em            G
Everything he loved, he kept locked up
A 	  	  	 D
In that ole tackle box.

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