Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too
yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer if you start givin' up
If the wine come to the top of yer cup
If the got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new to catch it
And the wood's findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its
And lonesome comes up as goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far
And you feel the reins from yer pony are
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are
And yer sun-decked and evergreen valleys
Turn to down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof a-shakin'
And yer world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of
And to yourself you say
"I never it was gonna be this way
Why didn't tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from
And you're for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone
And yer heart feels sick fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls yer hand to yer feet
And you it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its
And you think yer ears might a been
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the dirt
And you figured you failed in rush
When you were faked out an' white facing a four flush
And all the you were holdin' three queens
And it's you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball
And there's something on yer mind you be saying
That someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer
And it bothers you badly when your 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 swimmy the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of
And the lion's mouth and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start with you underneath
And yer flat on your with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never that last detour sign
And you say to yourself what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm
On pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm
Am I mixed up too much, am I up too hard
Why am I walking, am I running
What am I saying, am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm
In the tune I'm hummin', in the I'm writin'
In the that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I
am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your soul best
Never to think thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts ground
Or make yer heart
But then again you know why they're
Just for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause you hear'em when the night 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 for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was
And you know that it's special you're needin'
And you know that no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to yer brain from bleeding
And you need something
Yeah, you something special all right
You need a fast flyin' on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine
been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a times over
You need a Greyhound bus that bar no race
That won't at yer looks
voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the
Will be rollin' long the bubblegum craze
You something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen
But overlooked a hundred times or
You need something to open your
You need to make it known
That it's you and no one else that
That spot that yer standing, that space that sitting
That the ain't got you beat
That it got you licked
It can't get you no matter how many
you might get kicked
You need something special all
You need something to give you hope
But hope's just a
That maybe you said or maybe you
On some windy 'round a wide-angled curve

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

"Cause you find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window
And it ain't on no kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat
And it ain't on that dimlit
With half-wit comedian on it
and raving 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 as hell you're bound to tell
That no 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 pimple-lotion are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box
Or down any movie star's
And you can't it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and at my skin
at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry
you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so in their ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper
And inside it the made of molasses
That other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
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 time behind yer back
My
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and
And play games with each other in their sand-box
And you find it either in the no-talent fools
run around 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 think they're you
The ones who on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in
To get kicks, get out of it quick
And all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like
Ain't there no one here knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here knows how I feel
God Almighty
THAT STUFF REAL"

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

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