Luyện nghe bài hát Audubon

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

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

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 just to keep cool.
Yeah, many's a night I'd lay
A-waitin' for a distant station
Just a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' radio fry.

Well, I listened to Nashville and and Dallas
And Oklahoma gave my ear a callus
And I'll never forget announcers at three A.M.
They'd on an' say "Friends, there's 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 where you really got the hard-core
Yeah, a place where the truckers used ta stop on their way to Dees
There was signs all over windowsills
Like "If the Devil don't get ya, Roosevelt will"
And "The bank sell no beer, and we don't cash no checks."

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

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

Now had all of her ducks in a row
Weighed ninety-eight pounds; put on 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
ta her, nothin' 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
remind ya of fingernails a-scratchin' on glass
A-stompin' on in, leavin' tracks all over the Montgomery Ward
Yeah, they'd pound counters and kick them stools
They's always pickin' fights with the local
But one at Mavis, and they'd turn into a bunch a' tomcats

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

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