Luyện nghe bài hát There Was Only One Choice (Edited Version)

There's a kid out on my -- hear him strumming like a fool
in his dungarees -- but still he's going to school
his are made of peach fuzz -- his hopes may be the same
but he's up as a soldier out to play the music game
There are fake patches on his jacket -- used bleach to fade his jeans
with a brand new stay pressed shirt -- and some creased and wrinkled
his face a blemish garden -- but his are virgin clear
his voice is chicken -- but he's hearing paul revere
When he catches giggling -- he forces up a sneer
though he'd rather have a milk shake -- he keeps forcing down the
another folkie -- late in coming down the pike
riding his -- he left kid brother with his bike
And he's got guthrie running in his
he's the hobo kid left his home
and his records and the rolling stones
this boy is acoustic.
there's seeger in his heart
he hopes his songs somehow start
to heal the cracks that apart
gone plastic
And now there's dylan from his mouth
he's hitching himself way down
to learn a little black and
from old street men who paid their
'cause they knew they had to lose
they it
so just got to it
With cracked old gibsons and red clay
playing chords like good news
and with skin that calls for blood
they put their face and in mud
but oh they learned the from way down there
the ones learn it somewhere
Strum guitar -- sing it kid
just write about your -- not the things you never did
inexperience -- it once had me
but your youth is no -- it's what makes you thirsty
Hey, kid you know you can hear footsteps as you're kicking up the dust
and the rustling in the shadows tells you secrets you can
the capturing of whispers is the way to a song
it's when you get to the music can go wrong
You can't see the with spotlights in your eyes
feet can't feel the highway from where the lear jet flies
when you glide in silent in your padded limousines
only you are crying there the silver screen
now you battle dragons -- but they'll all into frogs
when you the wheel of fortune -- you get caught up in the cog
First your art turns into -- then the yahoos start to laugh
then you'll hear the jackals howl 'cause love to watch the fall
they're the ones out there feeding on the wounded and the bleeding
they always are the first to see the cracks upon the
When i started this i was still thirty-three
the age that mozart died and jesus was set free
keats and shelley too finished, charley parker would be
and i fantasized some tragedy'd be curtailing me
Well just today i had my birthday -- i it thirty-four
mere mortal, not immortal, not anymore
i've got this problem with my aging i no can ignore
a tame and toothless tabby can't produce a lion's
And i help being frightened on these midnight afternoons
i ask the loaded questions -- why does winter come so soon?
and where are all the golden girls that i was for
the of my dreams serenades no more
Yeah the minute man is soft -- the mirror's on the shelf
only when the truth's up -- can you fool yourself
i am the aged jester -- who won't gracefully
a clumsy clown without a net caught staggering on the wire
Yesterday's a collar has settled round my waist
today keeps slipping by me, it no aftertaste
tomorrow is a daydream, the never true
am i just a fire or a breeze passing through?
my country
i once to tell everyone your story
your was my poetry
and your past my potent glory
your was my prayer
hypocrisy my nightmare
and your problems fill my
are we both somewhere?
Step right up young lady -- your two hundred make you old if not senile
and we see the symptoms there in your rigor smile
with your old folks eating dog and your children eating paint
while the pirates own the flag and sell us on restraint
And blood's the only language that your deaf old ears can hear
and still you will not answer with that message clear
does it mean there's no more in your tired old glory stream
and the buzzards own the of your dream?

B*u*y
sell 'em pre-canned
america
happy ever after
There's a dance on the titanic
nearer my god to thee
and the on the starboard bow
you dance with me
Yes i it in the new york times
that was on the stands
it said that dreams were out of
we'll hear no more promises
there'll be no more passions
to up our play
It really was a sign
the went on to say
it shows we are growing up
in oh so healthy ways
and i told myself is
exactly i'm at
but i don't much thinking about that
Harry -- are you really so
you can believe
that the getting better
all you do is let her alone
harry -- can you really be
when it's before your eyes
when you the knife that carves her
you the life that starves her to the bone
Good dreams don't cheap
you've got to pay for
if you just dream when you're
there is no way for
to alive
to
It's not to listen -- it's not enough to see
when the hurricane is coming on it's not enough to
it's not enough to be in love -- we hide that word
not enough to be alive when your future's been deferred
What i've run through my body, what i've run my mind
my breath's the only rhythm -- and the tempo is my
my is hopelessness -- my ally honest doubt
the is a question that i never will find out
Is music propaganda -- should i boogie, and roll
or an early warning system hitched up to my soul
am i observer or or huckster of belief
making too of a life so mercifully brief?
So i stride down sunny and the band plays back my song
they're applauding at my shadow after i am gone
should i hold wistful notion that the journey is worthwhile
or tiptoe cross the chasm with a and a smile
Well i got up this morning -- i don't need to no more
it evaporated nightmares that had the night before
with every new day's dawning my kid in my bed
and tells the cynics of the board room your is dead
And as i with my music through the jungles of despair
my kid will learn guitar and find his street corner
there he'll make the silence listen to the dream the voice
and show his minstrel hamlet daddy there only was one choice
Strum your -- sing it kid
just write about your -- not the things you never did
inexperience -- it once had me
but your youth is no handicap -- it's makes you thirsty, hey kid
your guitar -- sing it kid
just write about your feelings -- not the you never did
band...