Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

When yer head gets twisted and yer grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too
When yer behind an' losin' yer pace
In a crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer if you start givin' up
If the don't come 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 spark to it
And the wood's easy 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 up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far

And you feel the from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen
Turn to broken down and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer pipe's a-pourin'
And the a-flashing and the thunder's 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 it was gonna be this way
Why didn't tell me the day I was born?"

And you start gettin' chills and yer from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer 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 sick like fish when they're fryin'

And yer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it but it lays on the street
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 filthy from the sight-blindin'
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
When you were out an' fooled white facing a four flush

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

And something on yer mind you wanna be saying
somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you 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 get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer of feathers turn to blankets of lead

And the lion's mouth opens and yer at his teeth
And his jaws start closin you underneath
And yer flat on your with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd 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 this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm
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 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 words I'm writing

In this of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I
am I giving, what am I taking?
But you try with your soul best
to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or make yer heart
But then you know 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 that they might catch you
And you jump yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream was screaming
And you know that it's special you're needin'
And you that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer from bleeding

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

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

You need something to it known
it's you and no one else that owns
That that yer standing
space that you're sitting
That the ain't got you beat
That it got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how
you might get kicked

You something special all right
You need something to give you hope
But hope's a word that maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you it bad
And yer trouble is you it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the
"Cause you can't find it on a dollar

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 kid's fraternity
And it ain't made in no wheat germ
And it on that dimlit stage
With half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and and taking yer money
And you it's funny

No you can't find it in no club or no yacht 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 a-gonna find it on yer ticket
No, and it ain't in the rumors tellin' you
And it ain't in the people are sellin' you
And it in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie blouse

And you can't find it on the golf
And Uncle Remus can't you and neither can Santa Claus
And it in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the cake voices
come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'

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

And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out
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 behind yer back, my friend
The ones that and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games each other in their sand-box world

And you find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant and make all 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 who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they 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 that knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one that knows how I feel?
Good God Almighty that stuff real!

No but that yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer
You gotta look other place
And where do you for this hope that yer seekin'?
do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'?
Where do you look for this oil gushin'?
Where do you look for this candle glowin'?
Where do you for this hope that you know is there
And out somewhere
And your feet can only walk two kinds of roads?

Your can only look 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 go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State
You'll find God in the church of choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State

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