Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur down the plateglass
as a swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow of a buttery cue ball moon
maverick across an obsidian sky
as the go groanin' and wheezin',
down on the I'm freezin';
on a restless boulevard at a road
I'm across from EASY STREET
with the tight knots of and out of towners
on the
and the buildings towering above
lit like dominoes or black
all the car salesmen dressed up in
Purina slacks
and Foster wrap-around,
pacing in of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like barkers at a gallery
they throw out kind of a Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we your money
just as well as else's here"
or they give you the P.T. bit
"There's a sucker born every
you happened to be comin' along at the right time"
come here now
you know... all the harlequin 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 zones waitin' like
pinball
to be off a joy ride to a magical place
waitin' in like "truckers welcome" diners
with dirt lots of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' with brakes, over driven
under paid, over fed, a day and a dollar short
but Christ I got my lips around a and
my on the throttle and I'm standin' on the corner
standin' on the corner a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner a gasper lookin
' for some kind of Cheshire grin
stroking a chin, and using parking meters
as walking sticks on the stroll
with my eyelids propped at half mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool and Snooker
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a after two
and in the cobalt steel blue smoke, it
was the radio that groaned out the hit
and the chalk squeaked, the creaked
and an Olympia sign winked through a torn
shade, old Chance himself leanin' up against
a Wurlitzer and eyeballin' out a 5 ball shot
impossible you ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of naaaa
he be stretchin' out long tawny fingers out a
cool green felt with a provocative golden
and a full table railshot that's no sweat and I
up against my bannister and wandered to the
and I punched A-2 I was lookin' for
something like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Pressure
by George (cryin' in the streets) - no dice
"that's life," that's what all the people say high
in April, seriously shot down in May, but I I'm
gonna change that tune when I'm underneath
a buttery that's all melted off to one side
It was just about that that the sun
crawlin' yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of 23rd
and a dracula moon in a black
was making its way to its
pre-paid room at the St. Hotel (scat)
and the El train came tumbling across the and it sounded
like the of Gene Krupa
with an cam and glasspacks
and the whispering of wet radials
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 looking
for some kind of an
investment romantic dividends
of a physical negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
missed weekly payments,
one-low-monthly
through the
with romantic and leg akimbo
but the chances are more than likely I'll
be held over for another weekend