Lirik Lagu The Randall Knife - Guy Clark
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TIPS PENCARIAN LIRIK FAVORIT ANDA
ANDA MENGETAHUI JUDUL DAN NAMA PENYANYI
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ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI NAMA PENYANYI
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ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI SYAIR
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Tanpamu tiada berarti
Tak mampu lagi berdiri
Cahaya kasihmu menuntunku
Kembali dalam dekapan tanganmu - Masukkan kata-kata penting. Misal: tiada berarti berdiri cahaya dekapan.
- Hindari kata-kata yang berkemungkinan memiliki ada dua versi atau lebih. Misal: tanpamu dapat ditulis tanpa mu.
TETAP TIDAK DAPAT MENEMUKAN LIRIK YANG ANDA CARI
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My father had a Randall knifeMy mother gave it to himWhen he went off to WWIITo save us all from ruinIf you've ever held a Randall knifeThen you know my father wellIf a better blade was ever madeIt was probably forged in hell
My father was a good manA lawyer by his tradeAnd only once did I ever seeHim misuse the bladeIt almost cut his thumb offWhen he took it for a toolThe knife was made for darker thingsAnd you could not bend the rules
He let me take it camping onceOn a Boy Scout jamboreeAnd I broke a half an inch offTrying to stick it in a treeI hid it from him for a whileBut the knife and he were oneHe put it in his bottom drawerWithout a hard word one
There it slept and there it stayedFor twenty some odd yearsSort of like ExcaliburExcept waiting for a tear
My father died when I was fortyAnd I couldn't find a way to cryNot because I didn't love himNot because he didn't tryI'd cried for every lesser thingWhiskey, pain and beautyBut he deserved a better tearAnd I was not quite ready
So we took his ashed out to seaAnd poured `em off the sternAnd threw the roses in the wakeOf everything we'd learnedWhen we got back to the houseThey asked me what I wantedNot the lawbooks not the watchI need the things he's haunted
My hand burned for the Randall knifeThere in the bottom drawerAnd I found a tear for my father's lifeAnd all that it stood for
My father was a good manA lawyer by his tradeAnd only once did I ever seeHim misuse the bladeIt almost cut his thumb offWhen he took it for a toolThe knife was made for darker thingsAnd you could not bend the rules
He let me take it camping onceOn a Boy Scout jamboreeAnd I broke a half an inch offTrying to stick it in a treeI hid it from him for a whileBut the knife and he were oneHe put it in his bottom drawerWithout a hard word one
There it slept and there it stayedFor twenty some odd yearsSort of like ExcaliburExcept waiting for a tear
My father died when I was fortyAnd I couldn't find a way to cryNot because I didn't love himNot because he didn't tryI'd cried for every lesser thingWhiskey, pain and beautyBut he deserved a better tearAnd I was not quite ready
So we took his ashed out to seaAnd poured `em off the sternAnd threw the roses in the wakeOf everything we'd learnedWhen we got back to the houseThey asked me what I wantedNot the lawbooks not the watchI need the things he's haunted
My hand burned for the Randall knifeThere in the bottom drawerAnd I found a tear for my father's lifeAnd all that it stood for
