POCKET KNIFE, cut me twice,
once back when, once tonight,

I've carried this all my life,
like Grandpa’s POCKET KNIFE..

as he was whipped, he whipped in turn,

if you spare the rod, they’ll never learn,

they say we get what we deserve,

some days I think they’re right..

afraid he’d fall into the brink,

his brothers drove him to the clinic,

they shocked his brain with insulin,

and he was not the same again..

robins fledge, they leave the nest,

never to return again,

they say that nature knows what’s best,

in 2 weeks they can fly..

afraid he’d hurt the ones he loved,

they made him get into the truck,

came home when a month had passed,

told the treatment might not last..

a hymnal thrown at a child’s head,

a mother spends the day in bed,

while you and I go play outside

with Grandpa’s POCKET KNIFE,

you and I go play outside

with Grandpa’s POCKET KNIFE...

Dm (Am, capo 5)

POCKET KNIFE is a "song game" group prompt, sent out by Matt the Electrician on 5/3/2026.