Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a drizzle down the plateglass
as a swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon
rollin' maverick an obsidian sky
as the go groanin' and wheezin',
down on the corner I'm
on a restless at a midnight road
I'm across town from EASY
the tight knots of moviegoers and out of towners
on the
and the buildings high above
lit like dominoes or dice
all the used car salesmen up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Grant wrap-around,
pacing in of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like barkers at a shootin'
they throw out kind of a Texas Guinan
"Hello sucker, we like money
just as well as else's here"
or give you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born minute
you just to be comin' along at the right time"
over here now
you know... all the sailors are on the stroll
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
decent factory air and AM-FM
and the yellow gypsy cabs
up in the taxi zones waitin' like
pinball
to be ticking off a joy ride to a place
waitin' in line like "truckers welcome"
dirt lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're with bankrupt brakes, over driven
under paid, over fed, a day and a dollar short
but Christ I got my around a bottle and
my on the throttle and I'm standin' on the corner
standin' on the like a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a lookin
' for kind of Cheshire billboard grin
stroking a goateed chin, and parking meters
as walking sticks on the stroll
with my eyelids propped at half mast
but you know... at Chubb's Pool Hall and Snooker
it was a after two, yea it was a nickle after two
and in the steel blue dream smoke, it
was the radio groaned out the hit parade
and the squeaked, the floorboards creaked
and an Olympia sign winked through a yellow
shade, old Jack himself leanin' up against
a Wurlitzer and eyeballin' out a 5 ball combination
you say? ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of possibility?
he be stretchin' out tawny fingers out across a
cool green felt with a golden gate
and a full table railshot no sweat and I leaned
up against my bannister and wandered to the
Wurlitzer and I A-2 I was lookin' for
something Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood
by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no
"that's life," what all the people say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm
gonna change tune when I'm standing underneath
a buttery that's all melted off to one side
It was just about that time the sun
crawlin' yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of 23rd
and a dracula in a black disguise
was making its way to its
room at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat)
and the El train came across the trestles and it sounded
like the of Gene Krupa
with an cam and glasspacks
and the whispering brushes of wet
on a wet and there's a
jam session on Belmont tonight
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've been
for some kind of an
investment romantic dividends
kind of a negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly
through the
with romantic and leg akimbo
but the are more than likely I'll probably
be held for another smashed weekend