Luyện nghe bài hát Audobon

Well, I was born in a town Audubon
Southwest Iowa, where it oughta been
houses, fourteen saloons,
And a mill in nineteen-thirty.
Had a neon sign, "Squealer Feeds"
And the bus came through they felt the need
And they stopped at a there in town called The Old Home Cafe

Now my daddy was a music man
He stood six-foot-seven, had big ol'
He'd lost two fingers in a chainsaw but he could play the violin
And Mom played piana, just the in the middle
And Dad played a storm on his three-fingered
'Cause all there was to do back there folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts

So I was raised on Bowl tunes, you see
Had a six-tube an' no TV
It was so dog-goned hot I had to wet the bed in the summer to keep cool.
Yeah, many's a night I'd lay
A-waitin' for a station break
Just a-settin' and an' a-lettin' that radio fry.

Well, I listened to Nashville and and Dallas
And Oklahoma City gave my ear a
And I'll never forget them announcers at A.M.
They'd come on an' say "Friends, many a soul who needs us
"So send them letters an' cards ta
"That's J-E-S-U-S friends, in a' Del Rio, Texas."

But the I remember, on the edge a' town
Was the place where you really got the hard-core
Yeah, a place where the used ta stop on their way to Dees Moins
was signs all over them windowsills
Like "If the Devil don't get ya, then will"
And "The bank sell no beer, and we don't cash no checks."

Now them truckers never about nothin' but haulin'
And the four-letter words was really
thought them home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.
Rode Chevys and Macks and big ol'
always complainin' 'bout their livers an' backs
But they was fast-livin', strung-out, truck-drivin' son of a

Now the gal waitin' tables was classy
Had a motor on a fairly new chassis
And she knew how to handle them truckers; name was Mavis
Yeah, she'd pour 'em a coffee, then bat her eyes
she'd listen to 'em tell 'er some big fat lies
Then she'd ask 'em how the wife and kids was, back there in

Now had all of her ducks in a row
Weighed ninety-eight put on quite a show
ya of a couple a' Cub Scouts tryin' ta set up a Sears, Roebuck pup tent
There's no proposition she couldn't handle
Next ta her, nothin' hold a candle
Not a of a lot upstairs, but from there on down, Disneyland!

Now the truckers, on the other hand, was crass
They remind ya of a-scratchin' on glass
A-stompin' on in, leavin' all over the Montgomery Ward linoleum
Yeah, they'd pound them counters and kick stools
They's always pickin' with the local fools
But one look at Mavis, and they'd turn into a bunch a'

Well, never forget them days gone by
I's just a kid, 'bout foot high
But I never forgot lesson an' pickin' and singin', the country way
Yeah, them walkin', talkin' truck stop
back ta life in seventy-two
As "The Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On Cafe"

Oh, the Old Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin' Cafe
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On
Oh, the Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'