Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

When yer head gets and yer mind grows numb
When you think 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 what yer doing if you start up
If the wine don't to the top of yer cup

If the got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new 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' though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down the day
And tomorrow's mornin' so far away

And you feel the reins yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and valleys
Turn to broken down slums and alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain a-pourin'
And the lightnin's and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and

And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of
And to yourself you say
"I never knew it was gonna be 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 you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like when they're fryin'

And yer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't it's beat
And you think yer ears might a been
Or yer turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush

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

And there's something on yer you wanna be saying
That somebody oughta be hearin'
But trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your in bed
And no matter how you try you can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer
And yer pillows of turn to blankets of lead

And the lion's opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you
And yer flat on your belly with yer tied behind
And you wish you'd never that last detour sign
And you say to yourself, "Just am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this I'm turnin'
On curve I'm hanging
On this 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
What am I saying, 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 tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm
In the words that I'm

In this ocean of hours I'm all the time
Who am I helping, am I breaking?
What am I giving, am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul
Never to think these thoughts and to let
Them of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer pound
But then again you know why around
Just waiting for a chance to and drop down

"Cause sometimes you when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you
And you jump from yer bed, from yer 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 drug do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer from bleeding

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

You need a Greyhound bus that bar no race
That won't at yer looks, your voice or your face
And by any number of in the book
Will be rollin' long after the craze
You need to open up a new door
To you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred or more
You need to open your eyes

You need something to make it
That it's you and no one that owns
spot that yer standing
That space that you're
the world ain't got you beat
That it got you licked
It can't get you crazy no how many
Times you might get

You something special all right
You need something special to you hope
But hope's just a word that maybe you or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled
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 ain't on Macy's sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's map
And it ain't in no fat fraternity house
And it ain't in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it on that dimlit stage
With half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer
And you it's funny

No you can't find it in no night club or no club
And it in the seats of a supper club
And sure as you're bound to tell that no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion are sellin' 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 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 bubblegum
And it ain't in the marshmallow of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas

Sayin' "Ain't I and ain't I cute?
at my skin
Look at my skin shine, at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my cry"
When you can't even if they got any insides
These people so pretty in ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache?
And inside it the made of molasses
That every day buy a new pair of sunglasses

And it ain't in the generals and flipped-out phonies
turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and and crack
And before you can from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back, my
The ones that wheel and deal and and twirl
And play games each other in their sand-box world

And you can't it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant and 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 on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in
To get kicks, get out of it quick
And all kinds 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 here knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one here that how I feel?
Good God that stuff ain't real!

No but that ain't yer game, it even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer
You look some other place
And do you look for this hope that yer seekin'?
Where do you look for this lamp 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 somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two of roads?

Your can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist and turn two of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn Hospital
find God in the church of your choice
You'll Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

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