Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets and yer mind grows numb
When you you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start 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 slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too
And you start walkin' though you know its wrong
And comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's seems so far away
And you feel the reins yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked and evergreen valleys
Turn to down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain a-pourin'
And the lightnin's and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and
And yer minutes of sun to hours of storm
And to you sometimes say
"I knew it was gonna be this 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 water 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 they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it on the street
And yer bell's loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin'
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
When you were faked out an' fooled white a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three
And it's makin you mad, makin' you mean
Like in the of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a machine
And there's something on yer you wanna be saying
That somebody oughta be hearin'
But it's on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
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 from the tears in yer
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of
And the lion's mouth opens and yer at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you
And yer flat on your belly yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour
And you say to yourself what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this I'm turnin'
On this I'm hanging
On this I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm
Am I up too much, am I mixed up too hard
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 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 ocean 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 your whole soul best
Never to think these and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or make yer pound
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 might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you remember for the best of yer thinking
If was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special 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 special all
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado
To shoot you someplace and you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine
That's been banging and and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred over
You need a bus that don't 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 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 your eyes
You need something to make it
it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you
That it got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how
Times you get kicked
You need something all right
You something special to give you hope
But just a word
That maybe you said or you heard
On windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve

But what 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 kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity
And it ain't in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer
And you it's 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 you're bound to tell
no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket
No, and it in the rumors 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 it on the golf course
And Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the puff 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 and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I and look at my skin
Look at my shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and
No not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a mache?
And it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new of sunglasses
And it ain't in the generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a
Who and burp and bend and crack
And you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but time behind yer back
My
The ones that wheel and and whirl and twirl
And play games each other in their sand-box world
And you find it either in the no-talent fools
run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got
And it ain't in the that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think foolin' you
The ones who on the wagon
Just for a 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it
And make all kinds of rnoney and
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
Ain't no one here that knows how I feel
Good God
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 some other place
And do you look for this hope that yer seekin'
Where do you look for lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil 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 kinds of
Your can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and
And two kinds of doorknobs
You can go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn Hospital
You'll find God in the of your choice
You'll find Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

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