Luyện nghe bài hát Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' yer pace
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 holdin' on
And the other starts and the feeling is gone
And yer engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you its wrong
And lonesome up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's seems so far away

And you feel the reins from yer 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 water and yer drain pipe's 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 and bangin'

And yer of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you say
"I knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they me the day I was born?"

And you gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're for somethin' you ain't quite 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 she's long a-flying
And yer heart sick like fish when they're fryin'

And yer jackhammer from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear beat
And you yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four

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

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

And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his
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 last detour
And you say to yourself, "Just what am I
On this road I'm walkin', on trail I'm turnin'
On this I'm hanging
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, where am I
What am I saying, am I knowing?
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm
On this 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
What am I giving, what am I
But you try with your soul best
to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of gain ground
Or yer heart pound
But then again you why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to and drop down

"Cause sometimes you hear'em the night times comes creeping
And you fear that might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't for the best of yer thinking
If was you in the dream that was screaming
And you that it's 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 brain bleeding

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

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

You need something to it known
That it's you and no one that owns
That spot that yer
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
Times you might get

You something special all right
You need something special to you hope
But just a word that maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a curve
But what 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 bill

And it ain't on Macy's window
And it ain't on no rich road map
And it ain't in no fat fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ
And it ain't on that stage
With half-wit comedian on it
and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks funny

No you can't find it in no club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a club
And as hell you're bound to tell that no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer stub
No, and it ain't in the people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are you
And it in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's

And you find it on the golf course
And Uncle can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store 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?
at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin
at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry"
When you can't even sense if they got any
These so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No not now or no other day
Find it on the made out-a paper mache?
And inside it the people of molasses
That other day buy a new pair of sunglasses

And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out
turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and and bend and crack
And before you can count one to ten
Do it all over again but this behind yer back, my friend
The ones that wheel and and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in sand-box world

And you find it either in the no-talent fools
That run gallant and make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but they do
And they're foolin' you
The ones who on the wagon
for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it
And all kinds of rnoney and chicks

And you yell to yourself and you throw yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be that!
Ain't there no one that knows where I'm at?
Ain't no one here that knows how I feel?
Good God Almighty 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 gotta some other place
And where do you look for this hope yer seekin'?
Where do you look for this lamp that's
Where do you look for this oil gushin'?
Where do you look for candle that's glowin'?
Where do you look for this hope you know is there
And out there
And your feet can walk down two kinds of roads?

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

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