Letra de «Tools»
You sent me to the shed with all the tools
I remember how you said that I could take what I could use
I got a hammer and a ratchet set
A hundred tools I ain't used yet
They're rusty, but they work as good as new
Tools, tools
I remember you as quiet as a picture Like that picture of the Navy sailor grinning for the girls You had visited the barber You were stationed at Pearl Harbor A year before the War became the world's
And you say, "Boy, sometimes you've got to get up on that ship, Leave all you love behind." Well, Grampa, I've been everywhere But Fargo, North Dakota It ain't war, but it's a fight
Tools, tools
Well, I never knew you ever drew one picture But if you want proof that I've got you Here running through my veins I could show you call the sketchbooks That I filled when I was young And sixty years ago you did the same
And you say, "Boy, just let 'em laugh When all they see is lines-- Paint yourself a picture of your life. I believe that Swedish folks were Born with better eyes." Grampa, I have always loved the sky I think you're right You gave me tools.
You sent that telegraph to tell her that you missed her When my daddy was a baby, oh you gave him to the Lord And the faith you handed down has somehow stuck around And love has called you home again To roam again no more
You sent me to the shed with all the tools I remember how you said that I could take what I could use Faith and Love and Hope are what I carried home, They're rusty but they work as good as new
Tools, tools
Tools, tools
I remember you as quiet as a picture Like that picture of the Navy sailor grinning for the girls You had visited the barber You were stationed at Pearl Harbor A year before the War became the world's
And you say, "Boy, sometimes you've got to get up on that ship, Leave all you love behind." Well, Grampa, I've been everywhere But Fargo, North Dakota It ain't war, but it's a fight
Tools, tools
Well, I never knew you ever drew one picture But if you want proof that I've got you Here running through my veins I could show you call the sketchbooks That I filled when I was young And sixty years ago you did the same
And you say, "Boy, just let 'em laugh When all they see is lines-- Paint yourself a picture of your life. I believe that Swedish folks were Born with better eyes." Grampa, I have always loved the sky I think you're right You gave me tools.
You sent that telegraph to tell her that you missed her When my daddy was a baby, oh you gave him to the Lord And the faith you handed down has somehow stuck around And love has called you home again To roam again no more
You sent me to the shed with all the tools I remember how you said that I could take what I could use Faith and Love and Hope are what I carried home, They're rusty but they work as good as new
Tools, tools
