Cross Canadian Ragweed - Brooklyn Kid lyrics

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 Fightin' for his way home Returnin' home to his native land Left New York for Texas man Quieter times were in his cards He met a girl she met a man Dropped to his knees and he took her hand A simple life ain't that hard No, a simple life ain't all that hard A 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 A 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 a tear to his eye The day that Jerry Garcia died He said he was the genius of his time Yeah, A Friend of the Devil is a Friend of Mine 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 and be astound By the life of the Brooklyn kid