From the recording Don’t Make ‘Em Like They Used To
Daddy driving the old mustang, playing that 1968 Gibson, and holding Grampa’s old pistol from WW2…that’s what this song is like.
Lyrics
Smoke from the tires, four speed on the floor
Lifters clackin’, with a .30 over bore
Smile sneaking out the side of daddy’s beard
Oh the riddle, of him slapping through the gears
Old man, long beard on his face
Bit ‘o mystery, as he opened up the safe
A ‘68 Gibson comes cracking out the case
It’s time had come, it no longer had to wait
They don’t make ‘em like they used to
There’s no way they ever could
Somewhere down the line they broke the mold
The things that matter can’t be bought or sold
They don’t make ‘em like they used to
Cold steel in the palm of my hand
Reminding Grampaw of a far and distant land
A cold winter in 1944
It told the story he just couldn’t tell no more
They don’t make ‘em like they used to
There’s no way they ever could
Somewhere down the line they broke the mold
The things that matter can’t be bought or sold
Naw, naw, they don’t make ‘em like they used to
Things break more easy than they used to
Sometimes thrown away or lost
I’m gonna take care of the things I have
No matter what the cost
The promise of a handshake
Something forged in heat and fire
With your hand in mine I’ll walk with you
And cherish every mile
New models they flash and they flirt
Try to catch my eye with a tiny mini skirt
My girl gives me a look that makes me spin
One look of her eye and she just reels me on in
They don’t make ‘em like they used to
There’s no way they ever could
Somewhere down the line they broke the mold
The things that matter can’t be bought or sold
They don’t make ‘em like they used to