Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur drizzle the plateglass
as a swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue ball
rollin' across an obsidian sky
as the go groanin' and wheezin',
on the corner I'm freezin';
on a restless boulevard at a road
I'm across town EASY STREET
with the tight of moviegoers and out of towners
on the
and the buildings towering high
lit like dominoes or black
all the used car dressed up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Grant wrap-around,
pacing in front of SCHLEIB
$39.95
like at a shootin' gallery
they throw out of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like your
just as as anybody else's here"
or they give you the P.T. bit
"There's a sucker every minute
you happened to be comin' along at the right time"
come here now
you know... all the harlequin sailors are on the
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
factory air and AM-FM dreams
and the piss gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi waitin' like
machines
to be off a joy ride to a magical place
waitin' in like "truckers welcome" diners
with lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, over driven
under paid, over fed, a day late and a short
but Christ I got my around a bottle and
my foot on the throttle and I'm standin' on the
standin' on the like a "just in town"
jasper, on a corner with a gasper lookin
' for some kind of Cheshire grin
stroking a goateed chin, and using parking
as walking sticks on the inebriated
with my eyelids propped open at half
but you know... over at Pool Hall and Snooker
it was a nickle two, yea it was a nickle after two
and in the cobalt steel blue smoke, it
was the that groaned out the hit parade
and the squeaked, the floorboards creaked
and an Olympia winked through a torn 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 of possibility? naaaa
he be stretchin' out tawny fingers out across a
cool felt with a provocative golden gate
and a full table railshot that's no and I leaned
up my bannister and wandered over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
something like Wine, Wine, by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. or High Blood Pressure
by George (cryin' in the streets) - no dice
"that's life," that's all the people say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot down in May, but I I'm
gonna change tune when I'm standing underneath
a buttery moon that's all off to one side
It was just about that time the sun
crawlin' yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of Street
and a dracula moon in a 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
the ghost of Gene Krupa
with an cam and glasspacks
and the brushes of wet radials
on a wet pavement and a
jam session on Belmont tonight
and the of the pending
evening, I leaned up
my and I've been looking
for kind of an emotional
investment with romantic
kind of a negociation
is
as I to consolidate all my
weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly
the nose
with romantic and leg akimbo
but the chances are more likely I'll probably
be over for another smashed weekend