Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer
In a slow-motion crawl of life's race
No matter what yer doing if you start up
If the wine 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 engine 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 you know its wrong
And lonesome up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and valleys
Turn to broken slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops
And yer world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to you sometimes say
"I never knew it was be this way
Why didn't they me the day I was born"
And you start chills 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' a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and long gone a-flying
And yer feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its
And you think yer ears a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
When you faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you holdin' three queens
And makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life
Bouncin' around a machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be
That somebody someplace 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 just say it
And yer scared to yer soul you might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to of lead
And the mouth opens 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 taken last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm
On this I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the 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, am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm
In the that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I
But you try with your soul best
Never to these thoughts and never to let
Them of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart
But then again you why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the times comes creeping
And you fear they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of
And you remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream was screaming
And you know that something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain bleeding
And you something special
Yeah, you need something all right
You need a fast flyin' on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you
You need a cyclone on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred over
You need a Greyhound bus don't bar no race
That laugh at yer looks
Your voice or face
And by any of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the craze
You need to open up a new door
To show you something you before
But a hundred times or more
You need something to open eyes
You need to make it known
it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space you're sitting
That the world ain't got you
That it ain't got you
It get you crazy no matter how many
Times you get kicked
You need special all right
You need special to give you hope
But just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you
On some windy corner a wide-angled curve

But what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you it too good
"Cause you an' you start getting the chills

"Cause you find it on a dollar bill
And it on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich road map
And it in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ
And it on that dimlit stage
With that comedian on it
and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht
And it in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're to tell
That no how hard you rub
You ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors tellin' you
And it ain't in the people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box
Or any movie star's blouse
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 dummies or 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 shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry
When you even sense if they got any insides
people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made paper mache?
And inside it the made of molasses
That every other day buy a new of sunglasses
And it in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and
And before you can count one to ten
Do it all over again but time behind yer back
My
The ones that wheel and deal and and twirl
And play games with each in their sand-box world
And you can't find it in the no-talent fools
That run gallant
And make all rules for the that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that got any talent but think they do
And think they're you
The who jump on the wagon
Just for a while they know it's in style
To get kicks, get out of it quick
And make all of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I be like that
Ain't no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I
Good God
THAT STUFF REAL"

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

And though it's only my
I may be or wrong
find them both
In the Canyon
At