Luyện nghe bài hát Audubon

Well, I was born in a town called
Southwest Iowa, right where it oughta
Twenty-three houses, saloons,
And a feed in nineteen-thirty.
Had a sign, said "Squealer Feeds"
And the bus came through when they the need
And they stopped at a place in town called 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 played piana, just the in the middle
And Dad a storm on his three-fingered fiddle
'Cause that's all there was to do back there folks, except ta go downtown and haircuts

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

Well, I listened to and Tulsa and Dallas
And Oklahoma City my ear a callus
And I'll never them announcers at three A.M.
come on an' say "Friends, there's many a soul who needs us
"So send them letters an' ta Jesus
"That's friends, in care a' Del Rio, Texas."

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

Now them truckers talked about nothin' but haulin'
And the words was really appallin'
They thought home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.
Rode and Macks and big ol' stacks
They's always complainin' 'bout their livers an'
But they was fast-livin', strung-out, truck-drivin' son of a

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

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

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

Well, I'll forget them days gone by
I's a kid, 'bout four foot high
But I never that lesson an' pickin' and singin', the country way
Yeah, them walkin', truck stop blues
Came back ta life in
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 Filler-up An' Keep On
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' On A-Truckin' Cafe