Luyện nghe bài hát Starkville City Jail

They put this 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 that
Terry, is that
Will you this son bitch for me?
Got all of songs, here's one called "A boy named sue"
You want to that one?
You want to hear "a boy sue"?
I do too. I'm anxious to it
I don't know how in the it's gonna sound. I'm anxious to hear it
Does that camera block your view there, is that alright?
You want me to leave it
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
being with us for 13 years. Luther Perkins
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 cheer for Luther

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

a, there's a, there's a little red notebook back there
Would somebody, would one of the guards 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,
got all the songs I stole in it

Telling it it is, ain't I? Alright

Wrote a yesterday. I try.
It takes a lot of imagination to write a to write a song
And to really, to really put into it
Where else can understand it and feel it .
Well we've in several prisons
San Quentin, and Folsom prison, and the Mississippi jail
An El jail. And uh.
You wouldn't believe it, one night I got in jail in Mississippi
For flowers.
I was walking down the street. I may heaven for you a little bit later
I was down the street....what?
me I couldn't hear you I was talking
I was walking the street, and uh
You know, going to get me some or something
'Bout two in the morning, after a show. I it was
Anyway, I reached down and picked a dandelion and a daisy there as I went along
And car pulls up.
Said, get it the hell in here boy, what are you
Said, I'm just picking
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 get back at whoever you want to out there
In my case, I'd like to get at the fella down in Starkville Mississippi
still has my thirty six dollars

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

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

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

Well, they threw me in the car and started driving into
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 put me in a cell, then he went home for the night;
I "Come back here, you so and so;
I ain't treated right."

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

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

Then I sadly that they didn't even take my name.
At 8 a.m. they let me out, I "Gimme them things 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 City jail.