Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

When yer head gets and yer mind grows numb
you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion of life's busy race
No matter yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't to the top of yer cup

If the wind's got you with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to it
And the wood's easy but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as 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 desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's
And the lightnin's and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's and bangin'

And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you say
"I never it was gonna be this way
Why didn't tell me the day I was born?"

And you gettin' chills and yer jumping from 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 gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer feels sick like fish when they're fryin'

And yer jackhammer falls from yer to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't it's beat
And you think yer might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled facing a four flush

And all the time you were holdin' queens
And it's you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of magazine
around a pinball machine

And there's something on yer mind you be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be
But it's trapped on yer tongue and in yer head
And it bothers you badly your layin' 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 from the tears in yer
And yer pillows of feathers to blankets of lead

And the lion's mouth and yer staring at his teeth
And his start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that detour sign
And you say to yourself, "Just am I doin'
On this I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the I'm taking
In air I'm inhaling?

Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too
Why am I walking, where am I
am I saying, what 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 I'm hummin', in the words I'm thinkin'
In the words that I'm

In ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, am I breaking?
am I giving, what am I taking?
But you try with your soul best
Never to think thoughts and never to let
Them of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart
But then you know why they're around
waiting for a chance to slip and drop down

"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes
And you fear that they 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 was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something you're needin'
And you know that there's no that'll do for the healin'
And no in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding

You need special, you need something special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado
To shoot you someplace and you back
You need a wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing
That knows yer troubles a times over

You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no
That won't laugh at yer looks, your or your face
And by any number of bets in the
Will be rollin' long the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new
To show you something you seen
But overlooked a hundred times or
You need something to open eyes

You something to make it known
That you and no one else that owns
That that yer standing
That space that sitting
That the world ain't got you
That it got you licked
It get you crazy no matter how many
you might get kicked

You something special all right
You need something to give you hope
But hope's just a word that you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner a wide-angled 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 bill

And it on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat
And it on that dimlit stage
With half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and yer money
And you it's funny

No you find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to that no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket
No, and it ain't in the rumors tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion 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 tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow of the chocolate cake voices
come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'

Sayin' "Ain't I and ain't I cute?
at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my glow
at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry"
When you can't sense if they got any insides
These people so in their ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a mache?
And it the people made of molasses
every other day buy a new pair 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 breathe and burp and and crack
And you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time yer back, my friend
The ones that wheel and deal and and twirl
And games with each other in their sand-box world

And you can't find it in the no-talent fools
run around gallant and make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think foolin' you
The ones who jump on the
for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it
And make all kinds of and chicks

And you to yourself 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 that knows how I feel?
God Almighty that stuff ain't real!

No but that yer game, it ain't even yer race
You hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some place
And where do you look for this hope that yer
Where do you for this lamp that's a-burnin'?
Where do you look for this oil well
Where do you look for this candle glowin'?
do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there
And feet 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 twist and two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your
Or you can go to State Hospital
You'll find God in the of your choice
You'll find Woody in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my
I may be or wrong
You'll find them
In the Grand at sundown