Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Gutherie

When yer head gets twisted and yer grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too
When yer laggin' an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of 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 one hand holdin' on
And the starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the gets too long
And you start backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as goes the day
And tomorrow's seems so far away
And you feel the reins yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and alleys
And yer sky water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun to hours of storm
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 chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're 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 window peek
And yer good gal and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick fish 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 bangin' loudly but you can't hear its
And you think yer ears might a hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin'
And you figured you failed in rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a flush
And all the time you were holdin' queens
And makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be
That somebody someplace be hearin'
But trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just say it
And yer scared to yer you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of
And the lion's mouth opens and yer at his teeth
And his jaws closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands behind
And you wish you'd never that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I
On this I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On curve I'm hanging
On pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I 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 mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
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, am I breaking
am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole best
Never to think thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or yer heart pound
But then again you know why around
Just waiting for a to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes
And you fear they might catch you a-sleeping
And you from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the that was screaming
And you know that something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from
And you something special
Yeah, you need something all right
You need a flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and you back
You need a cyclone on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and and blowing forever
knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus don't bar no race
That laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your
And by any number of bets in the
Will be rollin' after the bubblegum craze
You something to open up a new door
To you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or
You something to open your eyes
You need something to it known
That you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, space that you're sitting
That the world got you beat
it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no how many
Times you might get
You need special all right
You need something to give you hope
But hope's just a
That maybe you said or maybe you
On some windy corner 'round a curve

But that's 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 can't find it on a dollar
And it ain't on Macy's sill
And it ain't on no kid's road map
And it in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ
And it ain't on that dimlit
that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer
And you thinks it's
No you can't find it in no night club or no club
And it ain't in the of a supper club
And sure as hell bound to tell
no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer stub
No, and it ain't in the people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box
Or down any star's blouse
And you find it on the golf course
And Uncle can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in wrappin'
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 can't even sense if got any insides
These so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no day
Find it on the doorsteps made paper mache?
And inside it the people of molasses
That every day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star and flipped-out phonies
Who'd yuh in for a tenth of a penny
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 with each other in their world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent
That run gallant
And all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones ain't got any talent but think they do
And think foolin' you
The who jump on the wagon
Just for a 'cause 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 gotta be that
Ain't there no one here knows where I'm at
there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God
STUFF AIN'T REAL"

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