Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

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

If the wind's got you with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is
And yer train engine fire a new spark to catch 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' backwards you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down the day
And tomorrow's mornin' so far away

And you feel the from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are
And yer sun-decked desert and valleys
Turn to down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the a-crashin'
And the windows are and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and

And yer minutes of sun turn to of storm
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 from
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer in the air
And the world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone
And yer heart sick like fish 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 eyes've turned filthy from the dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays
When you were faked out an' fooled facing a four flush

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

And there's something on yer mind you be saying
somebody someplace 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 just forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the in yer head
And yer pillows of turn to blankets of lead

And the mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands 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 this trail I'm
On this curve I'm
On pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm

Am I up too much, am I mixed up too hard?
Why am I walking, am I running?
am I saying, what am I knowing?
On this guitar I'm playing, on this I'm frailin'
On mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the I'm thinkin'
In the words that I'm

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 whole best
Never to think thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or make yer heart
But then again you know why they're
Just waiting for a chance to slip and down

"Cause you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last 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 something special you're
And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to yer brain from bleeding

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

You a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That laugh at yer looks, your voice or your face
And by any number of in the book
Will be long after the bubblegum 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 that owns
That that yer standing
That that you're sitting
That the world got you beat
it ain't 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 just a word maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's you need man, and you need it bad
And yer is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start the chills
"Cause you can't find it on a dollar

And it on Macy's window sill
And it on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity
And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ
And it ain't on that dimlit
that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and and taking yer money
And you thinks it's

No you can't it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the 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 pimple-lotion people are you
And it ain't in no house
Or any movie star's blouse

And you can't find it on the course
And Uncle Remus can't 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 store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake
That come knockin' and in Christmas wrappin'

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

And it in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and and bend and crack
And you can count from one to ten
Do it all over but this time behind yer back, my friend
The ones that wheel and and whirl and twirl
And play games with each in their sand-box world

And you find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant and make all rules for the ones that got
And it ain't in the ones ain't got any talent but think they do
And they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the
Just for a while 'cause they know 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!
there no one here that knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one here that knows how I
Good God Almighty that stuff real!

No but that ain't yer game, it 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 that yer
Where do you look for this that's a-burnin'?
do you look for this oil well gushin'?
Where do you for this candle that's glowin'?
Where do you look for this that you know is there
And out somewhere
And your feet can only down two kinds of roads?

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

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