Luyện nghe bài hát Starkville City Jail

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

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

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

Telling it it is, ain't I? Alright

a song yesterday. I try.
It takes a lot of imagination to write a sometimes to a song
And to really, to put something into it
Where somebody can understand it and feel it .
Well we've in several prisons
San Quentin, and Folsom prison, and the Starkville Mississippi
An El jail. And uh.
You wouldn't it, one night I got in jail in Starkville Mississippi
For flowers.
I was walking down the street. I may sing heaven for you a bit later
I was down the street....what?
Excuse me I couldn't hear you I was
I was down the street, and uh
You know, going to get me some or something
two in the morning, after a show. I think it was
Anyway, I reached and picked a dandelion here and a daisy 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 dollars for picking flowers and a in jail (goddamn)
You can't win can ya, goddamn
No telling what they'd do if you an apple or something
Well I'd like to do this song on behalf of all you guys in San
To kinda get back at whoever you to out there
In my case, I'd like to get back at the fella down in Mississippi
That still has my six dollars

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 'neath the sweet magnolia

I was whistlin', flowers, swayin' in the southern breeze.
I found myself 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.
'Cause got a curfew.
And you go to the City jail.

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

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

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

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

I pacin' 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 awhile and kick awhile, and all nobody came.

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

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