our legacy is our many tools
thank god he made us feeble fools
with no claws, tails, fur or wings
we had to manufacture most everything
both blessings and burdens are our tools
they come with directions but not any rules
grandpa stored tools in a sturdy shed
on hooks, in nooks, or cradled in beds
a quiet craftsman in high demand
who spoke plenty through his hands
back when fine workmanship sold
then people lost interest and gramps got old
daddy kept all his tools in a box
he carried them with him on his long walks
doing odd jobs for poor folks around
trading for goods when no cash could be found
he cussed when that old toolbox busted
the lid snapped off…his wrenches rusted
I toss my tools in a cloth feed sack
carried over my shoulder and back
I like to feel their weight with each stride
right in plain sight, the best place to hide
thank god he made us feeble fools
our legacy kept with only three tools
which three tools? you may well ask
whichever one feels up to the task
gramps’ wood chisel still does a fine job
while daddy’s pipe wrench is one vulgar slob
my hatchet is sweet when she’s got a clear shot
but likes working in close more often than not
long as marriages and partnerships sour
hitmen and cleaners are on call at all hours
just pay us up front in cold hard cash
and don’t ask us where the bodies get stashed
you best believe I am able and willing
my tools and I plan on making a killing
Gerald So reads "Legacy":
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Andrée confesses: "'Legacy' started out as a bluegrass song that went dark fast. Spanning three generations of craftsmen, it notes their differences and similarities and shows how they saw their roles within their family, community and society. Although morality had vanished the need to provide and pride in good workmanship remained."
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