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' an' losin' yer pace
In a crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you givin' up
If the wine don't to the top of yer cup

If the wind's got you sideways 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 easy 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 comes up as goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far

And you feel the from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen
to broken down 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 and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's and bangin'

And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to you sometimes say
"I knew it was gonna be this way
Why they 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 dark water with yer in the air
And the whole world's with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish they're fryin'

And yer jackhammer falls yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it on the street
And yer bell's bangin' but you can't hear it's beat
And you think yer ears might a been
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin'
And you you failed in yesterdays rush
When you faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush

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

And there's something on yer you wanna be saying
That somebody oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head
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 from the tears in yer
And yer pillows of feathers to blankets of lead

And the lion's opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that 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 pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In air I'm inhaling?

Am I up too much, am I mixed up too hard?
Why am I walking, where am I
What am I saying, what am I
On this guitar I'm playing, on banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the I'm singin'
In the I'm hummin', in the words I'm thinkin'
In the words I'm writing

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

"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night comes creeping
And you fear that might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer
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 yer brain from bleeding

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

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

You need to make it known
That it's you and no one else that
That spot that yer
That space that you're
That the ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you
It get you crazy no matter how many
Times you get kicked

You something special all right
You something special 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 what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you 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 road map
And it in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit
With that comedian on it
Ranting and raving and yer money
And you thinks it's

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 to tell that no matter how hard you rub
You ain't a-gonna 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 people are you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box
Or down any movie blouse

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

"Ain't I pretty and ain't I cute?
Look at my
Look at my skin shine, at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my cry"
When you can't even sense if got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and
No you'll not now or no 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 of a penny
Who and burp 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 with each other in sand-box world

And you can't find it either in the fools
That run around gallant and make all for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the that ain't 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 their kicks, get out of it
And make all kinds of rnoney and

And you to yourself and you throw 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 Almighty 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 look other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer
Where do you look for lamp that's a-burnin'?
Where do you for this oil well gushin'?
Where do you look for this candle that's
Where do you look for this hope that you know is
And out somewhere
And your can only walk down two kinds of roads?

eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist and turn two kinds of
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 Guthrie in State Hospital

And though only my opinion
I may be or wrong
find them both
In the Grand Canyon at