Luyện nghe bài hát Starkville City Jail

They put microphone down here near my guitar
Heh, let it all out
I thought my guitar was out of at first
You son of a..
It is out of
Is right?
Terry, is right?
you tune this son bitch for me?
Got all kinds of songs, here's one called "A boy sue"
You want to hear one?
You to hear "a boy named sue"?
I do too. I'm anxious to it
I don't know how in the hell gonna sound. I'm anxious to hear it
Does that camera block your view right there, is that
You me to leave it there?
Just gonna put it then
Where in the hell is my Oh, here it is
(Where's Johnny?)
We're sorry to say, the Luther passed away seven ago
After being with us for 13 years. Luther
And uh, the fella that is playing the with us now is doing a wonderful job
nobody can really replace Luther.
How about one big for Luther Perkins

Yeah, I had a song San Quentin, I was going to do
Where's my....hey, in my kit back in there I've got all my dope
I mean, where I got all my

a, there's a, there's a little red notebook back there
Would somebody, one of the guards bring it to me
Somebody it to me, bring me the red notebook, and I will uh..

Hey, that, that briefcase back of mine, you know,
That's got all the songs I in it

Telling it like it is, I? Alright

a song yesterday. I try.
It takes a lot of imagination to a sometimes to write a song
And to really, to put something into it
Where somebody else can understand it and it .
Well been in several prisons
San Quentin, and Folsom prison, and the Starkville jail
An El jail. And uh.
You wouldn't believe it, one night I got in in Starkville Mississippi
For flowers.
I was walking down the street. I may sing for you a little bit later
I was walking the street....what?
Excuse me I couldn't you I was talking
I was down the street, and uh
You know, going to get me some or something
'Bout two in the morning, a show. I think it was
Anyway, I reached down and picked a dandelion here and a there as I went along
And car pulls up.
Said, get it the hell in boy, what are you doing?
Said, I'm picking flowers
Well,thirty six for picking flowers and a night in jail (goddamn)
You can't hardly win can ya,
No what they'd do if you pull an apple or something
Well I'd to do this song on behalf of all you guys in San Quentin
To kinda get back at whoever you to out there
In my case, I'd to get back at the fella down in Starkville Mississippi
That still has my thirty six

Well, I my motel room, down at the Starkville Motel,
The town had to sleep and I was feelin' fairly well.
I strolled along the sidewalk the sweet magnolia trees;

I was whistlin', pickin' flowers, swayin' in the breeze.
I found surrounded; one policeman said: "That's him.
Come along, flower child. Don't you know that it's two a.m."

They're to get you.
they got a curfew.
And you go to the City jail.

Well, threw me in the car and started driving into town;
I "What the hell did I do?"
And he "Shut up and sit down."

Well, they emptied out my pockets, took my pills and picks.
I said: "Wait, my name is..." "Ah, up."
Well, I was in a fix.

The sergeant put me in a cell, then he home for the night;
I "Come back here, you so and so;
I ain't treated right."

Well, bound to get you.
they got a curfew.
And you go to the Starkville jail.

I started back and forth, and now and then I'd yell,
And kick my dollar shoes against the steel floor of my cell.
I'd walk and kick awhile, and all night nobody came.

I sadly remembered that they didn't even take my name.
At 8 a.m. they let me out, I said: "Gimme them of mine!"
They gave me a sneer and a pick, and a yellow dandelion.

They're to get you.
'Cause got a curfew.
And you go to the City jail.
And you go to the Starkville jail.