| It sits above the mantel, on a couple rusty nails
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| It ain’t worth a lot of money, and it damn sure ain’t for sale
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| The good Lord only knows all the stories it could tell
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| My granddaddy’s gun
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| Well he bought it new out of the Sears-Roebuck catalog
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| And it shot a many shells over the back of an old bird dog
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| It backed a burglar down when grandma took the safety off
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| Granddaddy’s gun
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| It’s just an old double barrel twelve
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| The stock is cracked and it kicks like hell
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| It wouldn’t mean what mean’s to me, to no one
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| I can still hear his voice when I put it to my shoulder
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| A guns like a woman son, it’s all how you hold her
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| Taught me a whole lot more than how to hunt
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| And one of these days I’ll pass it on to my grandson
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| My granddaddy’s gun
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| He handed it to me on the day I turned thirteen
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| With a half shot box of shells and a kit to keep it clean
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| I keep a picture in the case of that sweet old man and me
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| Granddaddy’s gun
|
| It’s just an old double barrel twelve
|
| The stock is cracked and it kicks like hell
|
| It wouldn’t mean what mean’s to me, to no one
|
| I can still hear his voice when I put it to my shoulder
|
| A guns like a woman son, it’s all how you hold her
|
| Taught me a whole lot more than how to hunt
|
| One of these days I’ll pass it on to my grandson
|
| My granddaddy’s gun
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| There’s a long beard hangin' on my livin' room wall
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| That I got with a box call
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| And, grandaddy’s gun
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| And there’s a shot up sign out there on 49
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| That me and Billy Joe shot up one night
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| With, granddaddy’s gun
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| Well it sits above the mantel, on a couple rusty nails
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| It ain’t worth a lot of money, and it damn sure ain’t for sale |