Brooklyn Kid - Cross Canadian Ragweed

Written by：Cody Canada

Well I gotta friend that lives south of town

Loves to sit and burn one down

Spin some vinyl on his stereo

Every now and then he speaks of war

One tour of duty on a foreign shore

Fightin' for his way home

Yeah fightin' for his way home

Returnin' home to his native land

Left New York for Texas man

Quieter times were in his cards

Oo he met a girl she met a man

Dropped to his knees and he took her hand

Simple life ain't that hard

No a simple life ain't all that hard

New generation on the ground

Nothin' in the world could bring him down

Flyin' like

He had wings

Several years came and went

Not one of them was poorly spent

Good man's life he was chiselin'

Yeah a good man's life he was chiselin'

Reflecting on the Viet Cong

Uncle John's Band and a Dylan song

Smellin' like it's supper time

You know it brought tear to his eye

The day that Jerry Garcia died

He said he was the genius of his time

Saying it

Yeah a Friend of the devil is a friend of mine

Sing it later

Don't try to find it make the time

A couple of joints and a bottle of wine

You'll be glad that you did

With the grateful dead spinnin' round

Kick your feet back be astound

But by the life

Of Brooklyn kid

Lot of done

Na na na

Lot of done na na nanan na