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 laggin' an' losin' yer pace
In a crawl of life's busy race
No what yer doing 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 starts slipping 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 gets too
And you start walkin' backwards you know its wrong
And comes up as down goes the day
And mornin' seems so far away
And you the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
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 lightnin's a-flashing and the a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and
And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to you sometimes say
"I never knew it was be this way
Why they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite 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 long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like when 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 bangin' loudly but you can't its beat
And you think yer ears a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin'
And you you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four
And all the time you were holdin' three
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 be hearin'
But it's on yer tongue 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 swimmy from the in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin you underneath
And yer on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I
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 mixed up too
Why am I walking, where am I
What am I saying, what am I
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the I'm singin'
In the I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the that I'm thinkin'
In ocean 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 your whole soul best
Never to these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or yer heart pound
But then you know why they're around
Just for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times 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 something you're needin'
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 need something
Yeah, you something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you
You need a wind on a stream engine howler
That's banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred over
You need a Greyhound bus don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer
Your or your face
And by any of bets in the book
be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need to open up a new door
To you something you seen before
But a hundred times or more
You need something to your eyes
You something to make it known
it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, space that you're sitting
the world ain't got you beat
That it got you licked
It can't get you no matter how many
Times you might get
You need something all right
You something special to give you hope
But hope's just a
That you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a curve

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

"Cause you can't find it on a dollar
And it ain't on window sill
And it on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat fraternity house
And it made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it on that dimlit stage
With that comedian on it
and raving and taking yer money
And you it's funny
No you can't it in no night club or no yacht club
And it in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell bound to tell
That no how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket
No, and it ain't in the people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the people are sellin' you
And it in no cardboard-box house
Or down any star's blouse
And you can't find it on the course
And Uncle Remus can't 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 dummies or goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any
These people so pretty in their ribbons and
No not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made 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 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 this time yer back
My
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and
And play games each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent
That run around
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 foolin' you
The ones who on the wagon
for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it
And make all of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be that
Ain't there no one that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here knows how I feel
Good God
STUFF AIN'T REAL"

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

And though it's my opinion
I may be right or
You'll them both
In the Grand
At