Brooklin Kid

D

Well I gotta friend that lives south
 of town


Loves to sit and burn one down

G                         C      
Spin some vinyl on his stereo
            D


D
Every now and then he speaks of war


One tour of duty on a foreign shore

G                    C           
Fightin' for his way home
     D


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G                    C           
Fightin' for his way home
       D


G           C             D

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

G             C             D

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