McBratney from the Kitchen

A man of brawn and beer in a Staten Island bar

Said with a voice so clear Fill up me fuckin jar!

But it was to be his last for he'd pay now for his past

James McBratney from the kitchen was to go out with a blast

Though out numbered 3 to 1 he'd let no greaser have it said

That a Westie from Hells Kitchen let John Gotti have his head

When told "We've come to arrest you" McBratney knew for sure

With one arm he put the three assassins sprawled across the floor

Though he bravely stood his ground his life he still would lose

Like so many from the Kitchen he knew brawling and knew booze

From choir boys to men, with the strength and guts of ten

They were feared through out Manhattan where they met their bloody end

Since the days of Paddy Duggan the Westside knew no rest

Studs McElroy and Featherstone were those who ran the west

With alcoholic guts and wild narcotic nuts

Jimmy Coonan soon was rulin a Hells Kitchen full of fucks

Now on the other side of town big Paul was soon concerned

When he learned of these wild men and the hell in which they burned

With McBratneys guts in mind no solution could he find

Castellano called for Coonan for to put the past behind

Now these days are now since gone and these boys died by the gun

Like the Clantons and McLowerys when a different West was won

No never no more is what the coppers swore

But one day it may get hotter than it ever was before