Luyện nghe bài hát Audubon

Well, I was born in a town Audubon
Southwest Iowa, where it oughta been
houses, fourteen 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 there 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 played a storm on his fiddle
'Cause that's all there was to do back folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts

So I was raised on Dust tunes, you see
Had a six-tube 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 I'd lay awake
A-waitin' for a distant break
Just a-settin' and a-wettin' an' that radio fry.

Well, I listened to and Tulsa and Dallas
And Oklahoma City my ear a callus
And I'll never forget them announcers at 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 J-E-S-U-S friends, in a' Del Rio, Texas."

But the I remember, on the edge 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 Dees
There was signs all over them
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 truckers never talked about nothin' but
And the four-letter words was really
They them home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.
Rode Chevys and Macks and big ol'
They's always complainin' 'bout their an' backs
But they was fast-livin', strung-out, truck-drivin' son of a

Now the gal tables was really classy
Had a rebuilt on a fairly new chassis
And she knew how to handle them truckers; name was Mavis
Yeah, she'd pour 'em a coffee, 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 Mavis had all of her in a row
Weighed ninety-eight put on quite a show
Remind ya of a couple a' Cub tryin' ta set up a Sears, Roebuck pup tent
There's no that she couldn't handle
Next ta her, nothin' could hold a
Not a hell of a lot upstairs, but there on down, Disneyland!

Now the truckers, on the other hand, was crass
They remind ya of fingernails a-scratchin' on
A-stompin' on in, tracks all over the Montgomery Ward linoleum
Yeah, they'd pound them counters and kick them
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 just a kid, four foot high
But I forgot that lesson an' pickin' and singin', the country way
Yeah, them walkin', talkin' stop blues
back ta life in seventy-two
As "The Old Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin' 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 Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
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' Keep On Cafe