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 of songs, here's one called "A boy named sue"
You to hear that one?
You to hear "a boy named 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 right there, is that alright?
You want me to it there?
gonna put it there then
Where in the is my guitar? Oh, here it is
(Where's Johnny?)
We're sorry to say, the passed away seven months ago
After with 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 really Luther.
How about one big for Luther Perkins

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

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

Hey, that, that back 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 put something into it
somebody else can understand it and feel it .
Well we've been in several
San Quentin, and Folsom prison, and the Starkville Mississippi
An El jail. And uh.
You believe 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 walking the street....what?
Excuse me I hear you I was talking
I was walking the street, and uh
You know, going to get me cigarettes or something
'Bout two in the morning, after a show. I 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 here boy, are you doing?
Said, I'm just picking
Well,thirty six for picking flowers 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 this song on behalf of all you in San Quentin
To kinda get back at you want to out there
In my case, I'd to get back at the fella down in Starkville Mississippi
That still has my six dollars

Well, I my motel room, down at the Starkville Motel,
The town had gone to 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 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 Starkville jail.

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

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

The sergeant put me in a cell, he went home 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 Starkville jail.

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

Then I sadly remembered that they didn't even 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.
'Cause got a curfew.
And you go to the City jail.
And you go to the City jail.