Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy
No matter what yer if you start givin' up
If the wine don't to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand on
And the other starts slipping and the is gone
And yer train engine needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far
And you feel the from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof a-shakin'
And yer whole world's and bangin'
And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to you sometimes say
"I never knew it was be this way
Why didn't they me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer 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 with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the
And yer bell's bangin' but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
When you were faked out an' fooled facing a four flush
And all the time you were three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you
in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball
And something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head
And it you badly when your layin' in bed
And no how you try you just can't say it
And yer to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his
And his start closin with you underneath
And yer on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that detour sign
And you say to just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this I'm turnin'
On curve I'm hanging
On this I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too
Why am I walking, where am I
am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm
In the words that I'm
In this of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I
What am I giving, am I taking
But you try with your soul best
Never to think thoughts and never to let
Them of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart
But then again you know why around
Just for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night comes creeping
And you fear that 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 was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're
And you know that there's no that'll do for the healin'
And no in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need special
Yeah, you need something special all
You a fast flyin' train 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 knows yer troubles a hundred over
You a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or face
And by any number of bets in the
Will be rollin' long after the craze
You need to open up a new door
To show you something you seen
But a hundred times or more
You need something to your eyes
You need something to make it
it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space 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
Times you get kicked
You need something all right
You something special to give you hope
But hope's just a
That maybe you or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled

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

"Cause you can't find it on a 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 kid's fraternity
And it ain't made in no wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit
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 club or no club
And it in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell bound to tell
no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're 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 find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or 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 knockin' and tappin' in wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my
Look at my skin shine, 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 in their ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
Find it on the made out-a paper mache?
And it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a
Who breathe and and bend and crack
And before you can from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer
My
The ones that wheel and deal and and twirl
And play games each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the fools
That run around
And make all for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any but think they do
And think foolin' you
The ones who jump on the
Just for a while 'cause they know in style
To get their kicks, get out of it
And make all kinds of and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like
Ain't there no one here that where I'm at
there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God
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 other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer
Where do you look for this lamp a-burnin'
do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's
Where do you look for this hope you know is there
And out somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two of roads
Your eyes can look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can smell two kinds of hallways
You can and twist
And turn two kinds of
You can either go to the of your choice
Or you can go to State Hospital
You'll find God in the of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in State Hospital

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