Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too
When yer laggin' an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you givin' up
If the wine come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts and the feeling is gone
And yer engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street too long
And you start backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down the day
And tomorrow's seems so far away
And you feel the from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and valleys
Turn to broken down slums and alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's
And the lightnin's and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops
And yer world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you say
"I knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's gone a-flying
And yer feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer
And you need it but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you hear its beat
And you yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the dirt
And you you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four
And all the time you holdin' three queens
And makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball
And there's something on yer you wanna be saying
That somebody oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer
And yer pillows of turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer at his teeth
And his start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I
On this road I'm walkin', on trail I'm turnin'
On this I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm
In air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I up too hard
Why am I walking, am I running
What am I saying, what am I
On this guitar I'm playing, on banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the I'm singin'
In the I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I
What am I giving, am I taking
But you try your whole soul best
Never to these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts ground
Or make yer pound
But then again you know why around
Just waiting for a to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em the night times comes creeping
And you that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was
And you that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you something special
Yeah, you need something all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you
You need a cyclone wind on a stream howler
That's been banging and and blowing forever
That knows yer a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that bar no race
That laugh at yer looks
voice or your face
And by any number of in the book
Will be rollin' after the bubblegum craze
You need something to up a new door
To show you something you before
But overlooked a hundred times or
You need something to open your
You need something to make it
That you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're
the world ain't got you beat
That it got you licked
It get you crazy no matter how many
you might get kicked
You something special all right
You need something special to you hope
But hope's just a
That you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner a wide-angled curve

But that's what you man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the

"Cause you can't find it on a bill
And it ain't on window sill
And it on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity
And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ
And it ain't on that stage
With that comedian on it
Ranting and raving and yer money
And you thinks funny
No you can't find it in no club or no yacht club
And it in the seats of a supper club
And as hell you're bound to tell
no matter how hard you rub
You just a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no house
Or down any star's blouse
And you can't find it on the course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy
And it ain't in the dime store or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake
That come knockin' and in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, at my skin glow
Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry
When you even sense if they got any insides
These people so in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no day
Find it on the doorsteps out-a paper mache?
And it the people made of molasses
That other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and
And before you can from one to ten
Do it all over but this time behind yer back
My
The ones wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent
That run gallant
And all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the that ain't got any talent but think they do
And they're foolin' you
The who jump on the wagon
Just for a 'cause they know it's in style
To get kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of and chicks
And you to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be that
Ain't no one here that knows where I'm at
there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God
STUFF AIN'T REAL"

No but that yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer
You gotta look some other
And where do you look for this hope that yer
Where do you look for this that's a-burnin'
Where do you for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this that you know is there
And out there
And your feet can only walk down two of roads
Your can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only two kinds of hallways
You can touch and
And turn two of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State
You'll find God in the church of choice
You'll find Woody in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my
I may be or wrong
find them both
In the Grand
At