Luyện nghe bài hát Audubon

Well, I was born in a town called
Iowa, right where it oughta been
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 The Old Home Cafe

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 piana, just the keys in the middle
And Dad played a storm on his fiddle
that's 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 radio an' no TV
It was so dog-goned hot I had to wet the bed in the summer just to cool.
Yeah, many's a I'd lay awake
for a distant station break
Just a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' that fry.

Well, I listened to Nashville and and Dallas
And Oklahoma City my ear a callus
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 friends, in care a' Del Rio, Texas."

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

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

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

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

Now the truckers, on the other hand, was crass
remind ya of fingernails a-scratchin' on glass
A-stompin' on in, leavin' tracks all over the Montgomery linoleum
Yeah, pound them counters and kick them stools
They's always 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 a kid, 'bout four foot high
But I never forgot that an' pickin' and singin', the country way
Yeah, them walkin', talkin' truck blues
Came back ta life in
As "The Old Home An' Keep 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 An' Keep On A-Truckin' Cafe
Oh, the Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin' Cafe