The Randall Knife Guy Clark

[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
Now if you've ever held a Randall knife, you know my father well
And if a better blade was ever made, it was prob'ly forged in hell

[Verse 2]
My father was a good man, he was a lawyer by his trade
And only once did I ever see him misuse the blade
Well, 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]
Well, 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
Well, I hid it from him for a while, but the knife and he were one
And he 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]
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
Well, I'd cried for every lesser thing: whiskey, pain, and beauty
But he deserved a better tear and I was not quite ready