The Randall Knife

[Verse 1]

My father had a Randall knife

My mother gave it to him

When he went off to World War II

To save us all from ruin

If you've ever held a Randall knife

You know my father well

If a better blade was ever made

It was probably forged in hell

[Verse 2]

My father was a good man

A lawyer by his trade

Only once did I ever see him

Misuse the blade

It almost cut his thumb off

When he took it for a tool

Ah, the knife was made for darker things

You could not bend the rules

[Verse 3]

He let me take it camping once

On a Boy Scout jamboree

And I broke a half-an-inch off

Tryin' to stick it in a tree

I hid it from him for a while

But the knife and he were one

And he just put it in his bottom drawer

Without a hard word won

There it slept and there it stayed

For twenty some-odd years

Sort of like Excalibur

Except waiting for a tear

[Verse 4]

Now 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 I didn't try

I'd cried for every lesser thing

Whiskey, pain, and beauty

But he deserved a better tear

I was not quite ready

[Verse 5]

So we took his ashes out to sea

And poured 'em off the stern

And then threw the roses in the wave

Of everything we'd learned

And when we got back to the house

And they asked me what I wanted

Not the law books, not the watch

I need the things he's haunted

Aw, my hand burned for the Randall knife

There in the bottom drawer

And I found a tear for my father's life

And everything he stood for