Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur drizzle down the
as a neon swizzle stick up the sultry night air
and a yellow biscuit of a cue ball moon
maverick across an obsidian sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
on the corner I'm freezin';
on a restless boulevard at a road
I'm across town from EASY
with the knots of moviegoers and out of towners
on the
and the buildings towering high
lit like dominoes or dice
all the car salesmen dressed up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Grant wrap-around,
pacing in of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like at a shootin' gallery
they out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we your money
as well as anybody else's here"
or they you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker every minute
you just happened to be along at the right time"
come over 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
stacked up in the taxi zones like
machines
to be ticking off a joy ride to a magical
waitin' in line "truckers welcome" diners
dirt lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, driven
under paid, fed, a day late and a dollar short
but I got my lips around a bottle and
my foot on the and I'm standin' on the corner
standin' on the corner a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a lookin
' for some kind of Cheshire billboard
stroking a goateed chin, and using meters
as walking on the inebriated stroll
with my eyelids propped at half mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool Hall and
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a after two
and in the cobalt steel dream smoke, it
was the radio groaned out the hit parade
and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards
and an sign winked through a torn yellow
shade, old Jack Chance himself up against
a and eyeballin' out a 5 ball combination shot
you say? ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of possibility?
he be stretchin' out long tawny fingers out a
cool felt with a provocative golden gate
and a table railshot that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my and wandered over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Pressure
by (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no dice
"that's life," that's what all the say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm
gonna change that tune when I'm underneath
a buttery that's all melted off to one side
It was about that time that the sun
came crawlin' out of a manhole
at the of 23rd Street
and a dracula in a black disguise
was making its way to its
pre-paid room at the St. Hotel (scat)
and the El train came tumbling across the trestles and it
like the ghost of Krupa
an overhead cam and glasspacks
and the brushes of wet radials
on a wet and there's a
traffic jam session on tonight
and the of the pending
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've looking
for some of an emotional
investment with dividends
of a physical negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly
through the
romantic residuals and leg akimbo
but the are more than likely I'll probably
be held over for another smashed