Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur drizzle down the
as a neon stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue moon
rollin' across an obsidian sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
on the corner I'm freezin';
on a restless at a midnight road
I'm town from EASY STREET
with the tight knots of moviegoers and out of
on the
and the buildings towering above
lit dominoes or black dice
all the used car dressed up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Grant wrap-around,
in front of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like barkers at a gallery
they out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like your
just as well as anybody here"
or give you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born every
you just to be comin' along at the right time"
over here now
you know... all the harlequin sailors are on the
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
decent air and AM-FM dreams
and the yellow gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi zones waitin'
machines
to be ticking off a joy ride to a magical
waitin' in like "truckers welcome" diners
dirt lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' bankrupt brakes, over driven
paid, over fed, a day late and a dollar short
but Christ I got my lips a bottle and
my foot on the and I'm standin' on the corner
on the corner like a "just in town"
jasper, on a street with a gasper lookin
' for some kind of Cheshire grin
stroking a goateed chin, and using meters
as walking sticks on the stroll
with my propped open at half mast
but you know... over at Pool Hall and Snooker
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a nickle two
and in the steel blue dream smoke, it
was the radio that groaned out the hit
and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards
and an Olympia sign winked through a yellow
shade, old Jack Chance leanin' up against
a Wurlitzer and out a 5 ball combination shot
you say? ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of possibility?
he be stretchin' out long fingers out across a
cool green felt with a provocative gate
and a full table that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my and wandered over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
something like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood
by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no
"that's life," that's all the people say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm
gonna change that when I'm standing underneath
a buttery that's all melted off to one side
It was just that time that the sun
came crawlin' out of a manhole
at the foot of 23rd
and a dracula in a black disguise
was making its way to its
pre-paid at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat)
and the El train tumbling across the trestles and it sounded
like the of Gene Krupa
with an overhead cam and
and the whispering brushes of wet
on a wet pavement and a
traffic jam session on Belmont
and the of the pending
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've been
for some kind of an
with romantic dividends
kind of a negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly
the nose
with romantic residuals and leg
but the chances are more than likely I'll
be held over for another smashed