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Can you remember, brother?
The good old days, in a cotton haze
I can still see Mother, crying over Daddy's grave
She said, oh-oh-oh

And I can hear the old man say
Pick up the slack, it don't go that way
You will learn in this life
It's a rich man's war and it's a poor man's fight

'Cause momma spoke Czech, and she couldn't read or write
So we worked the farm and played dances on the side
'Cause I could pick a guitar enough to get by
And Ed could saw the fiddle
He'd make the people dance like fire

Remember brother
The good old days
The good old days

When I could hear the old man say
Pick up the slack, it don't go that way
You will learn in this life
It's a rich man's war and it's a poor man's fight

Whoa. Whoa

Can you remember, brother?
The good old days
The good old days

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