Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets and yer mind grows numb
you think you're 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 what yer doing if you givin' up
If the don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one holdin' on
And the other starts and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street too long
And you walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as goes the day
And mornin' seems so far away
And you the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are
And yer desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof a-shakin'
And yer whole a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you say
"I never knew it was be this way
Why they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping sweat
And lookin' 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 with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone
And yer heart feels sick like when they're fryin'
And yer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it but it lays on the street
And yer bell's loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been
Or yer eyes've turned filthy the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in rush
When you faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' queens
And makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of magazine
around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be
That somebody 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 matter how you try you can't say it
And yer scared to yer you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer
And yer of feathers 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 your belly with yer hands behind
And you wish you'd never taken that detour sign
And you say to yourself just am I doin'
On this I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the I'm taking
In air I'm inhaling
Am I up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I
am I saying, what 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 words I'm
In the that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time
Who am I helping, what am I
What am I giving, am I taking
But you try with your whole best
Never to think thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or make yer heart
But again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes
And you that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer
If was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's special you're needin'
And you that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to yer brain from bleeding
And you something special
Yeah, you need something special all
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado
To shoot you and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing
knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that bar no race
That won't laugh at yer
voice or your face
And by any number of in the book
Will be rollin' long after the craze
You need something to open up a new
To show you you seen before
But overlooked a hundred or more
You need to open your eyes
You need to make it known
it's 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 ain't got you
It can't get you crazy no matter how
Times you might get
You need special all right
You something special to give you hope
But hope's a word
That maybe you or maybe you heard
On some corner 'round a wide-angled curve

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

"Cause you can't find it on a bill
And it ain't on window sill
And it ain't on no rich road map
And it ain't in no fat fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat
And it ain't on that stage
With that comedian on it
Ranting and and taking yer money
And you thinks funny
No you can't it in no night club 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 ain't find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the 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 find it on the course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Claus
And it in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin
at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their and bows
No not now or no other day
Find it on the made out-a paper mache?
And inside it the people of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of
And it in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a of a penny
Who breathe and and bend and crack
And before you can from one to ten
Do it all over but this time behind yer back
My
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and
And play games with each other in their world
And you can't it either in the no-talent fools
That run gallant
And make all rules for the 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 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 of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be that
Ain't there no one here knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I
God Almighty
THAT STUFF REAL"

No but ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race
You hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other
And where do you for this hope that yer seekin'
do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's
Where do you look for this that you know is there
And out somewhere
And feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two 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 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
find them both
In the Canyon
At