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 or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy
No matter what yer doing if you givin' up
If the wine come to the top of yer cup

If the wind's got you sideways with one hand 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 findin' but yer lazy to it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you its wrong
And lonesome comes up as goes the day
And tomorrow's seems 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 and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can
And yer sky cries and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's
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 didn't they me the day I was born?"

And you start chills and yer jumping from sweat
And lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water yer hands in the air
And the whole a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels like fish when they're fryin'

And yer jackhammer 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 hurt
Or yer eyes've filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four

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

And there's something on yer mind you wanna be
somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head
And it you badly when your layin' in bed
And no how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers to blankets of lead

And the lion's opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his start closin with you underneath
And yer on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that 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 I'm taking
In this air I'm

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

In ocean 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 soul best
Never to these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or make yer pound
But then again you know why around
Just for a chance to slip and drop down

"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times creeping
And you fear that might catch you a-sleeping
And you from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer
If was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no that'll 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 fast flyin' train on a tornado
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 need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no
That won't laugh at yer looks, voice or your face
And by any of bets in the book
Will be long after the bubblegum craze
You need to open up a new door
To show you something you before
But overlooked a hundred or more
You need something to open eyes

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

You something special all right
You need special to give you hope
But hope's just a word that maybe you 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 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 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 taking yer
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 hell you're bound to tell no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna it on yer ticket stub
No, and it in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are you
And it ain't in no house
Or down any movie blouse

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

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

And it ain't in the fifty-star and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a of a penny
Who and burp and bend and crack
And you can count 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 their world

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

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

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

And though it's only my
I may be right or
find them both
In the Grand Canyon at