Don't Buy Your Son a Gun

(Verse 1)

Young Billy sat on the porch steps, staring at the gate

While his father brought a heavy box that would decide the boy’s own fate

But he bypassed the steel and the cold dark led

And brought home a hollow-body six-string instead

He said, "Son, let the timber tell the secrets of your soul

When the world starts shaking and you lose your self-control

Map out your heartache on every silver fret

And find beauty in the things you haven't mastered yet."

(Chorus)

Oh, don’t buy your son a gun, don’t hand down the fire

Better to build a bridge or tune a silver wire

Trade the trigger for a song, the anger for the sun

Whatever you do, brother, don’t buy your son a gun.

(Verse 2)

The next year came and the boy grew tall and fast

The father knew the quiet days of boyhood were sinking in the past

He didn't buy a holster or a hunter’s orange vest

He bought a leather ball and put his boy’s spirit to the test

Down at the playground where the asphalt meets the heat

He taught him how to pivot and how to move his feet

He learned the pride of a sweat-soaked win and how to lose with grace

And how to look a teammate in their tired, honest face.

(Verse 3)

When the questions got deeper and the nights grew long and cold

The father brought a holy book with pages edged in gold

They sat beneath the lamplight, turning verses one by one

Exploring ancient wisdom through the eyes of the Father's son

Bridge

He didn't teach him how to aim or how to hold his breath

He taught him how to weigh the words of life against death

To see the world through others and to listen when they speak

To find the hidden power that is granted to the meek.

(Chorus)

Oh, don’t buy your son a gun, don’t hand down the fire

Better to build a bridge or tune a silver wire

Trade the trigger for a song, the anger for the sun

Whatever you do, brother, don’t buy your son a gun.

(Outro)

No, don’t buy your son a gun.

Give him a melody.

Give him a game.

Give him your time...

And he’ll never need the flame.