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

There's a kid out on my corner -- hear him strumming a fool
shivering in his dungarees -- but he's going to school
his cheeks are of peach fuzz -- his hopes may be the same
but he's signed up as a out to play the music game
are fake patches on his jacket -- he's used bleach to fade his jeans
with a brand new stay pressed shirt -- and some creased and dreams
his face a blemish garden -- but his eyes are clear
his voice is chicken little's -- but hearing paul revere
When he himself giggling -- he forces up a sneer
though he'd have a milk shake -- he keeps forcing down the beer
just another folkie -- late in coming down the
riding his guitar -- he left kid brother his bike
And got guthrie running in his bones
he's the hobo kid who's his home
and his beatles and the rolling stones
this boy is acoustic.
there's seeger singing in his
he hopes his songs will somehow
to heal the cracks that split
america gone
And now there's dylan from his mouth
he's himself way down south
to learn a little and blues
from old street men who paid dues
'cause they knew had nothing to lose
knew it
so just got to it
With cracked old gibsons and red clay
playing 1-4-5 chords like good
and cursed with skin that calls for
they put their and feet in mud
but oh they learned the music from way there
the real ones it somewhere
Strum your -- sing it kid
write about your feelings -- not the things you never did
inexperience -- it had cursed me
but your youth is no handicap -- 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 is the way to write a song
it's when you get to microphones the can go wrong
You can't see the audience with spotlights in your
your feet can't feel the from where the lear jet flies
when you in silent splendor in your padded limousines
only you are crying there the silver screen
now you dragons -- but they'll all turn into frogs
when you grab the of fortune -- you get caught up in the cog
your art turns into craft -- then the yahoos start to laugh
then you'll hear the jackals howl 'cause love to watch the fall
they're the lost ones out feeding on the wounded and the bleeding
they are the first to see the cracks upon the walls
i started this song i was still thirty-three
the age that mozart died and sweet was set free
keats and shelley too soon finished, parker would be
and i fantasized some tragedy'd be soon me
Well just today i had my -- i made it thirty-four
mere mortal, not immortal, not anymore
i've got this with my aging i no longer can ignore
a tame and toothless tabby can't produce a lion's
And i can't help frightened on these midnight afternoons
i ask the loaded questions -- why does winter come so soon?
and are all the golden girls that i was singing for
the of my dreams serenades no more
Yeah the minute man is going -- the mirror's on the shelf
only when the truth's up there -- can you yourself
i am the aged jester -- who won't retire
a clumsy clown without a net caught on the high wire
Yesterday's a that has settled round my waist
today keeps slipping by me, it no aftertaste
tomorrow is a daydream, the future's never
am i just a fire or a breeze passing through?
my country
i once came to tell everyone story
your passion was my
and past my most potent glory
promise was my prayer
your my nightmare
and your problems fill my
are we going somewhere?
Step right up lady -- your two hundred birthdays make you old if not senile
and we see the symptoms there in your mortis smile
your old folks eating dog food and your children eating paint
while the pirates own the flag and sell us on restraint
And while blood's the only language that your old ears can hear
and still you will not answer with that message coming
does it mean there's no more ripples in tired old glory stream
and the buzzards own the carcass of your

B*u*y
sell 'em laughter
america
sing ever after
There's a band on the titanic
nearer my god to thee
and the iceberg's on the bow
you dance with me
Yes i read it in the new times
that was on the stands
it said that dreams were out of
we'll no more empty 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
where i'm at
but i don't much like thinking that
Harry -- are you so naive
you can believe
that the getting better
when all you do is let her
harry -- can you really be
when it's there your eyes
you hold the knife that carves her
you live the life that starves her to the
dreams don't come 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 enough to listen -- not enough to see
the hurricane is coming on it's not enough to flee
it's not enough to be in love -- we hide behind word
it's not enough to be alive when your 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 enemy is hopelessness -- my honest doubt
the answer is a that i never will find out
Is music propaganda -- should i boogie, rock and
or just an early warning system up to my soul
am i observer or participant or of belief
making too much of a so mercifully brief?
So i stride down sunny streets and the band back my song
they're applauding at my shadow after i am gone
should i hold this wistful that the journey is worthwhile
or tiptoe cross the chasm a song and a smile
Well i got up this morning -- i don't to know no more
it evaporated nightmares had boiled the night before
with every new day's dawning my kid in my bed
and the cynics of the board room your language is dead
And as i wander with my music through the of despair
my kid will guitar and find his street corner somewhere
there he'll make the silence to the dream behind the voice
and show his minstrel hamlet daddy that there only was one
Strum guitar -- sing it kid
just write about your -- not the things you never did
inexperience -- it had cursed me
but youth is no handicap -- it's what makes you thirsty, hey kid
Strum your guitar -- it kid
write about your feelings -- not the things you never did
band...