Tackle Box Time

[Verse 1]
Sun just yawning over that gravel road
Coffee in a thermos, tackle box closed
You said, "Hop in, we’re burnin’ daylight, son"
I was half awake
You were wide-eyed young
[Chorus]
It’s that tackle box time with my old man
Mud on my boots, line in my hand
You talk about faith, talk about life
Show me how to tie that knot just right
We don’t say much, but I still understand
Every cast’s a second chance with my old man
[Verse 2]
You took the front seat on that busted dock
I sat quiet, watching that red float rock
You laughed when I lost your favorite lure
Said, "Boy, they make more
Momma raised a worrier, I’m raisin’ you sure"
[Chorus]
It’s that tackle box time with my old man
Mud on my boots, line in my hand
You talk about work, talk about right
How you asked Mom on that Friday night
We don’t say much, but I still understand
Every cast’s a second chance with my old man
[Bridge]
Years rolled by
I moved out, you went gray
Now I’m drivin’ you
To the same old lake
You shake a bit
But your grin’s the same
You say, "Tie me on, son
And call your boy by his name" (oh yeah)
[Chorus]
It’s that tackle box time with my old man
Three chairs now, all in the sand
I talk about work, he talks ‘bout grace
My little boy’s sunscreen on his face
We don’t say much, but he’ll understand
Every cast’s a second chance
Every cast’s a second chance
With my old man

country, Warm modern country ballad with male vocals; gentle acoustic guitar and brushed snare in the verses, mandolin fills around the vocal. Chorus lifts with steady kick, layered harmonies, and a singalong hook. Subtle pedal steel glides in the bridge, big final chorus with held notes and ad-libbed echoes before a soft guitar ring-out.