Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind numb
When you think too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion of life's busy race
No matter yer doing if you start 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 train engine fire needs a new to catch it
And the wood's easy but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' though you know its wrong
And lonesome up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far
And you feel the reins yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and valleys
Turn to down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer pipe's a-pourin'
And the a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of
And to you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be way
Why didn't they me the day I was born"
And you gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're
And yer jackhammer from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it on the street
And yer bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four
And all the time you were three queens
And it's makin you mad, makin' you mean
Like in the of Life magazine
Bouncin' a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be
That somebody someplace be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly your layin' in bed
And no how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer
And yer pillows of feathers to blankets of lead
And the lion's opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands behind
And you wish you'd never taken last detour sign
And you say to yourself just am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm
In air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too
Why am I walking, am I running
What am I saying, am I knowing
On this I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the I'm writin'
In the words I'm thinkin'
In this of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I
But you try with your whole soul
Never to think these and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or make yer pound
But then again you why they're around
Just waiting for a to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of
And you can't remember for the of yer thinking
If was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the
And no liquor in the land to stop yer from bleeding
And you something special
Yeah, you need something all right
You need a fast flyin' on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and you back
You a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing
That yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no
That won't laugh at yer
Your voice or face
And by any of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum
You need something to up a new door
To you something you seen before
But overlooked a times or more
You need something to open eyes
You need something to make it
That you and no one else that owns
That spot yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you
That it ain't got you
It can't get you crazy no how many
you might get kicked
You something special all right
You need something special to you hope
But hope's a word
That maybe you or maybe you heard
On some windy corner a wide-angled curve

But what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer is you know it too good
"Cause you an' you start getting the chills

"Cause you can't it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's sill
And it on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ
And it ain't on that stage
that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and and taking yer money
And you thinks funny
No you can't find it in no night or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper
And sure as hell you're to tell
That no matter how you rub
You just a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the people're tellin' you
And it in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no house
Or down any movie star's
And you can't find it on the course
And Uncle Remus can't you and neither can Santa Claus
And it in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake
That come and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my
at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any
These people so pretty in ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache?
And inside it the people of molasses
That every day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a of a penny
Who and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer
My
The ones that and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each in their sand-box world
And you can't it either in the no-talent fools
run around gallant
And make all rules for the that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but they do
And think they're you
The ones who jump on the
Just for a while they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it
And all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I be like that
there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here knows how I feel
God Almighty
THAT AIN'T REAL"

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

And though it's my opinion
I may be or wrong
You'll find both
In the Grand
At