Luyện nghe bài hát Starkville City Jail

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

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, I got all my things

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

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

Telling it it is, ain't I? Alright

a song 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 been 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 little bit
I was down the street....what?
Excuse me I hear you I was talking
I was walking 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 down and picked a dandelion and a daisy there as I went along
And this car 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 they'd do if you pull an apple or something
Well I'd like to do this song on of all you guys in San Quentin
To kinda get back at whoever you to out there
In my case, I'd like to get back at the down in Starkville Mississippi
That still has my six dollars

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

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

They're to get you.
'Cause got a curfew.
And you go to the Starkville 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 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 said: "Come here, you so and so;
I ain't treated 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 forty dollar shoes the steel floor of my cell.
I'd walk awhile and kick awhile, and all nobody came.

I sadly remembered that they 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.
'Cause got a curfew.
And you go to the Starkville jail.
And you go to the Starkville jail.