Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind numb
When you you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's race
No matter yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't to the top of yer cup
If the got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train fire 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 the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are
And yer sun-decked desert and valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can
And yer sky cries water and yer drain a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's
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 yourself you say
"I knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't found yet
And yer knee-deep in the water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window stare
And yer good gal leaves and long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer
And you need it badly but it lays on the
And yer bell's loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a hurt
Or yer eyes've turned from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in rush
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, it's makin' you
Like in the of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball
And there's something on yer mind you be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be
But trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you when your layin' in bed
And no how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his
And his jaws start closin you underneath
And yer flat on your with yer hands tied behind
And you wish never taken that last 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 pathway I'm strolling, in the space 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 I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words I'm thinkin'
In ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, am I breaking
What am I giving, am I taking
But you try with whole soul best
to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts ground
Or make yer pound
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 comes creeping
And you fear that they catch you a-sleeping
And you from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't for the best of yer thinking
If was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're
And you know that there's no drug do for the healin'
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' train on a 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 at yer looks
Your voice or your
And by any number of bets in the
Will be rollin' after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new
To show you something you seen
But a hundred times or more
You need to open your eyes
You need something to it known
it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space you're sitting
That the world got you beat
That it got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how
you might get kicked
You need something special all
You need special to give you hope
But just a word
That you said 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 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 house
And it made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on dimlit stage
that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and yer money
And you it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht
And it ain't in the seats of a supper
And sure as hell you're to tell
no matter how hard you rub
You ain't a-gonna 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 in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's
And you can't find it on the golf
And Uncle can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton clothes
And it ain't in the dime store or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the cake voices
come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin
Look at my skin laugh, look at my cry
When you can't sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no day
it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache?
And inside it the people 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 yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who and burp and bend and crack
And before you can from one to ten
Do it all over but this time behind yer back
My
The that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box
And you can't find it in the no-talent fools
run around gallant
And all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that got any talent but think they do
And they're foolin' you
The who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause 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 that
Ain't there no one here that where I'm at
Ain't there no one that knows how I feel
God Almighty
THAT AIN'T REAL"

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

And though only my opinion
I may be or wrong
You'll find them
In the Canyon
At