My father had a Randall knife My mother gave it to him When he went off to WWII To save us all from ruin If you've ever held a Randall knife Then you know my father well If a better blade was ever made It was probably forged in hell
My father was a good man A lawyer by his trade And only once did I ever see Him misuse the blade It almost cut his thumb off When he took it for a tool The knife was made for darker things And you could not bend the rules
He let me take it camping once On a Boy Scout jamboree And I broke a half an inch off Trying to stick it in a tree I hid it from him for a while But the knife and he were one He put it in his bottom drawer Without a hard word one
There it slept and there it stayed For twenty some odd years Sort of like Excalibur Except waiting for a tear
My father died when I was forty And I couldn't find a way to cry Not because I didn't love him Not because he didn't try I'd cried for every lesser thing Whiskey, pain and beauty But he deserved a better tear And I was not quite ready
So we took his ashed out to sea And poured `em off the stern And threw the roses in the wake Of everything we'd learned When we got back to the house They asked me what I wanted Not the lawbooks not the watch I need the things he's haunted
My hand burned for the Randall knife There in the bottom drawer And I found a tear for my father's life And all that it stood for
ещё гимн )) youtube.com "BOWIE KNIFE" by: Frankie Laine
I got off the riverboat in New Orleans in the spring of eighty-two I walked into a gambling house, as gamblers often do I had myself a drink and I joined in a poker game The dealer was a woman so I asked her for her name She smiled at me so pretty but a hush fell over the place As a big man 'cross the table, stood up and slapped my face Bowie knife, bowie knife, long glitterin' steel If my gun don't take your evil life ***CHORUS*** You can bet my bowie knife will I had my choice of weapons on which would depend my life I chose a set of pistols and a long Bowie knife I met him by the river, by the light of the rising sun Was I prepared to fight him, I feared my time had come (CHORUS) As we stood back to back, there on the duelin' green I cursed the fate that brought me to the town of New Orleans The referee started counting the paces, one by one When I heard him say, "Twenty", I turned and fired my gun I knew at once I'd missed and I waited there in fear, as The stranger aimed and fired but the bullet went by my ear He threw away his pistol and drew his bowie knife I knew that razor edge would soon snap off my life But somehow luck was with me and my weapon found his side He lay there on the duelin' ground, then he cursed me as he died (CHORUS) You can bet my bowie knife will You can bet my bowie knife will (capo 4th)
))