Verse 1 First Friday night, I pulled in slow Hands on the wheel, heart ready to go Screen door creaked and there he sat Oiled rag, old twelve-gauge laid across his lap He looked at me, then looked back down Ran that patch till it shined like new Said, “Have her home by half past ten.” Never said another word again. Chorus That old shotgun never left his side Every date, every Friday night Didn’t have to say a single thing That wooden stock spoke loud to me Funny how a young man’s plans Can change with one old steady hand I never saw him raise that gun… And he never had to use it once. Verse 2 Second date, same porch light glow Same old chair where the hickories grow Same old rag, same careful hands Like he’d been waitin’ there again He smiled just enough to let me know He was hopin’ I would never give him cause She kissed my cheek, I tipped my hat He kept on cleanin’ just like that. Chorus That old shotgun never left his side Every date, every Friday night Didn’t have to say a single thing That wooden stock spoke loud to me Funny how a young man’s plans Can change with one old steady hand I never saw him raise that gun… And he never had to use it once. Bridge Years rolled by and one spring day I asked if I could take her hand He laid that shotgun on his knees Looked me square and said to me… “I’ve been hopin’ all these years This thing would never leave right here.” Then he grinned and shook my hand— “Son… welcome to the family.” Verse 3 Wedding day, the band played on Friends all laughed ’til nearly dawn Then across that crowded room Here he came in his Sunday suit Shotgun cradled in his hands He held it out and said, “Young man… Take good care of my little girl…” Then smiled and said, “You’ll need this someday… If you’re lucky enough to have one of your own.” Outro Now there’s a little pink bicycle Leanin’ by our old front porch And every Friday, just before dark… You’ll find me cleanin’ her granddaddy’s shotgun.
