| It sits above the mantle on a couple rusty nails
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| And it’s worth a bunch of money but it damn sure aren’t for sale
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| The good Lord only knows all the stories it could tell
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| Granddaddy’s gun
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| He bought it new out of a Sears & Roebuck catalog
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| And it shot a many shell over the top of an old bird dog
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| And 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 a double barrel 12
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| The stock is cracked and it kicks like hell
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| It wouldn’t mean what it means to me to no one
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| I can hear his voice when I put it to my shoulder
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| «A gun’s like a woman, son it’s all how you hold her»
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| He 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 son
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| Granddaddy’s gun
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| He handed it to me on the day I turned 13
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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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| With granddaddy’s gun
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| There’s a long beard living on the living room wall
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| That I got with a box call
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| And granddaddy’s gun
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| There’s a shot up stop sign on 49
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| That me and Billy Joe took out one night
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| With granddaddy’s gun
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| Granddaddy’s gun
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| It sits above the mantle on a couple rusty nails
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| And it’s worth a bunch of money but it damn sure aren’t for sale |