C Gun is a Killing Tool

Son and Father, winter ‘59
Up in the morning in the Cass County pines
“We need food for the winter” Father said to Son
“cnd if you can hold a hammer, then you can hold a gun”

The weight of the rifle felt good in his hands
Son said to father, “now I'm a working man”
He pulled the trigger, heard a mighty sound
Felt a holy, empty feeling
Saw the deer upon the ground
Father said...

“c hammer is made for nailing, a ruler's made to measure
Man was born to labor on the earth forever
Plans are laid with a shovel and spade
cnd whether kind or cruel
They're all means to make a living
But a gun is a killing tool


The world turns colder, it's winter ‘68
Son is in a jungle a million miles away
cnd the pounding of the rifle feels good in his hands, He says
“You can beat your swords to plowshares
But I'm a working man”

Cause a hammer is made for nailing, a ruler's made to measure
Man was born to labor on the earth forever
Plans are laid with a shovel and spade
cnd whether kind or cruel
They're all means to make a living
But a gun is a killing tool

Son and Father, winter ‘89
The lesson of the morning in the Cass County pines
Son holds a hammer, Father holds the door
Like his father did before him, and his father before