More Than an Old Thirty-Eight

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Before the sun would break the morning sky, We’d load up the truck and let the world pass by. Coffee in a thermos, cold air in our lungs, Just a father and his boy, where the memories begun. You taught me how to hunt, how to read the land, How to be a better man by watching who I am. And through all those years, there’s one day I’ll never miss, The day you handed me that old Remington six. [Chorus] It was more than an old thirty-ought-six, More than walnut stock and a well-worn grip. It was your steady hands saying, “Son, you’re ready,” And the trust between us, quiet and heavy. Now the hills have changed and the years have gone, But I still hear your voice when the first light comes on. I keep it safe, though I don’t need to use it— It was more than an old thirty-ought-six. [Verse 2] You showed me where the creek bends through the pines, How to wait and watch, how to take your time. We came home plenty with an empty game bag, Still laughing at the mud on the old truck’s flags. That rifle rode beside us through the years, Through a thousand little talks and a few hard tears. When I had my own boy, I knew what to say: Some things you pass down aren’t meant to be put away. [Chorus] It was more than an old thirty-ought-six, More than walnut stock and a well-worn grip. It was your steady hands saying, “Son, you’re ready,” And the trust between us, quiet and heavy. Now the hills have changed and the years have gone, But I still hear your voice when the first light comes on. I keep it safe, though I don’t need to use it— It was more than an old thirty-ought-six. [Bridge] Now my boy asks questions while we walk the fence, And I tell him what you taught me about patience. The old rifle stays locked, its story told with care; What matters is the love that put it there. [Final Chorus] It was more than an old thirty-ought-six, More than walnut stock and a well-worn grip. It was your steady hands saying, “Son, you’re ready,” And the trust between us, quiet and heavy. Though I miss you every time the cold winds come, Your words still guide me like the morning sun. I’ll pass on the good, and the truth that goes with it— It was more than an old thirty-ought-six. [Outro] More than a rifle, more than a day, A father’s love that never wears away.