Luyện nghe bài hát Rat's Ass/Customs

Standin' on the side of the road with a shadow and suitcases,
going nowhere, and I don't care, I'm a man.
Hold my own hand, my own ass for cryin',
I'm on the inside, they don't know who I am.
Filthy, fraught, and by a guilty conscience,
away, and all because of silly nonsense.
Gone since - God when,
and I aint comin' back knowin' that, no one gives a ass anyway.

I just wanna find a place I can sit in a rocking chair,
no how far, even if it means walking there.
Maybe I'll get me a dog for company,
it's than tryin' to figure out somebody.
Give me a good book, a radio, and a machine,
a place in the woods by the and no inbetween.
I gotta get rid of these circles and headaches,
Maybe if I meditate, rather medicate.
I can no hesitate, I get so frantic,
but if my wishes are overly romantic.
Though, the suns too low in the sky for guesses I reken
and I'm used to chances.
Breakin' a few branches, and gettin' now and then,
findin' some trouble, was a matter of how and when.
And now I take notes, and make boats Burch bark
but stress still in my face like a birthmark.
As soon as I get where I'm going I'm going to wash my hands
and start out of bed earlier.
it's curious the way tried vicariously,
to fly so low to the and so carelessly.
How embarassing, I can't wait to it quits,
knowing that more and tiring is all it gets.
I've applied and unique strategies,
Read a few Greek and fasted for two weeks.
Been rollin'
in the hole in the
no surprise my eyes
are swollen shut, I'm with no supplies.

I a lift...

What I done?