Luyện nghe bài hát Audubon

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

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

So I was raised on Dust 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 station break
Just a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' that fry.

Well, I listened to Nashville and Tulsa and
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 friends, in care a' Del Rio, Texas."

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

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

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

Now had all of her ducks in a row
Weighed ninety-eight put on quite a show
Remind ya of a couple a' Cub Scouts tryin' ta set up a Sears, pup tent
There's no proposition that she 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 other hand, was really
They remind ya of 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 pickin' fights with the local fools
But one look at Mavis, and they'd turn into a a' tomcats

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

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