Luyện nghe bài hát Audobon

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

Now my daddy was a lovin' man
He six-foot-seven, had big ol' hands
He'd lost two fingers in a but he could still play the violin
And Mom played piana, just the keys in the
And Dad played a on his three-fingered fiddle
that's all there was to do back there folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts

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

Well, I to Nashville and Tulsa and Dallas
And Oklahoma City gave my ear a
And I'll never them announcers at three A.M.
They'd come on an' say "Friends, there's a soul who needs us
"So them letters an' cards ta Jesus
"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 got the hard-core sound
Yeah, a place where the truckers used ta 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 don't sell no beer, and we don't no checks."

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

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

Now had all of her ducks in a row
ninety-eight pounds; put on quite a show
Remind ya of a a' Cub Scouts tryin' ta set up a Sears, Roebuck pup tent
There's no proposition that she couldn't
Next ta her, could 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
on in, leavin' tracks all over the Montgomery Ward linoleum
Yeah, they'd pound counters and kick them stools
They's pickin' fights with the local fools
But one look at Mavis, and they'd into a bunch a' tomcats

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

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