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 that
Terry, is right?
Will you this son bitch for me?
Got all kinds of songs, here's one "A boy named sue"
You want to hear one?
You want to "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?
gonna put it there then
Where in the 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 fella that is playing the guitar with us now is a wonderful job
nobody can really replace Luther.
How one big cheer for Luther Perkins

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

Hey, that, briefcase 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 to write a song
And to really, to really put something it
Where somebody else can it and feel it .
we've been 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 the street. I may sing heaven for you a little bit later
I was down the street....what?
Excuse me I couldn't you I was talking
I was walking the street, and uh
You know, to get me some cigarettes or something
two in the morning, after a show. I think it was
Anyway, I reached down and picked a dandelion here and a daisy there as I went
And this car up.
Said, get it the hell in boy, what are you doing?
Said, I'm picking flowers
Well,thirty six for picking flowers and a night in jail (goddamn)
You can't win can ya, goddamn
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 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 thirty six

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

I was whistlin', pickin' flowers, swayin' in the breeze.
I myself surrounded; one policeman said: "That's him.
Come along, wild flower child. Don't you know 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 driving into town;
I said: "What the did I do?"
And he "Shut up and sit down."

Well, they emptied out my pockets, took my 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 said: "Come 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 pacin' back 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 remembered that they didn't even my name.
At 8 a.m. they let me out, I said: "Gimme things of mine!"
They gave me a sneer and a guitar pick, and a dandelion.

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