Luyện nghe bài hát Starkville City Jail

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

Yeah, I had a song San Quentin, I was going to do
Where's my....hey, in my kit back in where 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, would one of the bring it to me
bring it to me, bring me the red notebook, and I will uh..

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

Telling it like it is, ain't I?

Wrote a yesterday. I try.
It takes a lot of to write a sometimes to write a song
And to really, to really put into it
Where somebody can understand it and feel it .
Well we've in several prisons
San Quentin, and prison, and the Starkville Mississippi 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 down 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 daisy as I went along
And car pulls up.
Said, get it the hell in boy, what are you doing?
Said, I'm just flowers
Well,thirty six dollars for picking and a night in jail (goddamn)
You can't hardly win can ya,
No telling what do if you pull an apple or something
Well I'd like to do song on behalf of all you guys in San Quentin
To get back at whoever you want to out there
In my case, I'd like to get back at the fella down in Starkville
That has my thirty six dollars

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

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

bound to get you.
'Cause got a curfew.
And you go to the City jail.

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

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

The put me in a cell, then he went home for the night;
I "Come back here, you so and so;
I bein' treated right."

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

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

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

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