Old Navy Footlocker 2018 Robert George
Well, I climbed that cobwebbed staircase with some old bolt cutters
And they sliced that Master padlock just like it was butter
Then I lifted up the lid and felt his memries flow out
Brushed away some dust then looked inside and I had no doubt
Id found the stark, unvarnished truth
Deck of cards, a handmade chessboard and a barbecue fork
An old Sinatra forty-five of New York, New York
And a sad memento from the Mekong River
The tiny piece of shrapnel thatd nicked his liver
During two tours of a tarnished youth
O my granpas soul was wise and old
But he never was a talker
Now it seems his tales are being told
By his rusty Navy foot locker
Famly recipes for pasta and a spicy calzone
Pottery and trinkets from the Panama Canal Zone
First edition Faulkner and a vintage Batman, too
Theres a necklace made of stingray leather with a shark tooth
But the only thing that seemed to hide a dark truth
Was a barmaids snapshot down in Katmandu
O my granpas soul was wise and old
But he never was a talker
Now it seems his tales are being told
By his rusty Navy foot locker
Found some faded photographs beside his Dundee lighter
And they proved his last days as a tough, bare knuckle fighter
Left him with a scar and cauliflower ears
Then I thought about my own life and the time Ive wasted
How life is sometimes sweeter for the sour fruit weve tasted
While forever siphons our years
O my granpas soul was wise and old
But he never was a talker
Now it seems his tales are being told
By his rusty Navy foot locker
I was playing poker in a tavern in Nepal
Losing big and drinking pure grain alcohol
When a grey-haired barmaid with a kind, familiar face
Turned up at the table like a lucky ace
She said my crooked smile and eyes of ocean blue
Looked just like a dashing lover she once knew
