Grandpa Rocks

Two - three - four Aye, aye He wears black jeans and a class t-shirt His combat boots are covered with dirt When he plays guitar his amp's up loud He ain't dead yet, he still draw a crowd Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks His hair, what's left grows down to his socks Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks He listens to the stones by the waterfront docks Aye He likes cold beers and good red wine Single malt whisky, it'll do just fine His old turntable's full of scratched 45's He ain't afraid of dying he just likes to be alive, yeah Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks He ain't quite ready for the pine top box Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks He loves him a woman who's an old grey fox Aye He's got a 57 Chevy And a Bill named Gray Money in his pocket, he's a bathtub gin He likes to play the ponies He don't punch no clock On Saturday nights, takes his grandma round the block Aye His muscles ache and his back's no good When he plays with the kids on narcan wood Narcan wood Narcan, narcan, narcan wood Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks His hair, what's left grows down to his socks Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks He listens to the stones by the waterfront docks Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks He ain't quite ready for the pine top box Grandpa rocks, grandpa rocks He loves him a woman who's an old grey fox Old grey, old grey, oh Aye, aye Aye, aye Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye Aye Where's my kin? Who are these people? Get off my car