Luyện nghe bài hát Audubon

Well, I was in a town called Audubon
Iowa, right where it oughta been
Twenty-three houses, saloons,
And a mill in nineteen-thirty.
Had a sign, said "Squealer Feeds"
And the bus through when they felt the need
And they at a place there in town called The Old Home Cafe

Now my daddy was a lovin' man
He stood six-foot-seven, had big ol'
He'd lost two fingers in a chainsaw but he could still the violin
And Mom played piana, just the in the middle
And Dad a storm on his three-fingered fiddle
'Cause that's all there was to do there folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts

So I was raised on Dust tunes, you see
Had a six-tube an' no TV
It was so dog-goned hot I had to wet the bed in the just to keep cool.
Yeah, many's a I'd lay awake
A-waitin' for a distant break
Just a-settin' and an' a-lettin' that radio fry.

Well, I listened to Nashville and and Dallas
And City gave my ear a callus
And I'll never forget them at three A.M.
come on an' say "Friends, there's many a soul who needs us
"So send them an' cards ta Jesus
"That's J-E-S-U-S friends, in a' Del Rio, Texas."

But the place I remember, on the a' town
Was the where you really got the hard-core sound
Yeah, a place where the truckers used ta on their way to Dees Moins
was signs all over them windowsills
Like "If the Devil get ya, then Roosevelt will"
And "The bank don't sell no beer, and we cash no checks."

Now them truckers never talked about but haulin'
And the four-letter was really appallin'
They them home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.
Rode Chevys and Macks and big ol'
They's always complainin' 'bout their an' backs
But they was fast-livin', strung-out, son of a guns

Now the gal tables was really classy
Had a rebuilt on a fairly new chassis
And she how to handle them truckers; name was Mavis Davis
Yeah, she'd 'em a coffee, then she'd bat her eyes
Then she'd to 'em tell 'er some big fat lies
Then she'd ask 'em how the wife and kids was, there in Joplin?

Now had all of her ducks in a row
Weighed ninety-eight pounds; put on quite a
Remind ya of a couple a' Cub Scouts tryin' ta set up a Sears, Roebuck pup
no proposition that she couldn't handle
Next ta her, nothin' hold a candle
Not a hell of a lot upstairs, but there on down, Disneyland!

Now the truckers, on the other hand, was really
They remind ya of fingernails on glass
on in, leavin' tracks all over the Montgomery Ward linoleum
Yeah, they'd pound them counters and them stools
They's pickin' fights with the local fools
But one look at Mavis, and turn into a bunch a' tomcats

Well, never forget them days gone by
I's just a kid, 'bout four high
But I never forgot that lesson an' and singin', the country way
Yeah, walkin', talkin' truck stop blues
Came ta life in seventy-two
As "The Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin' Cafe"

Oh, the Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On Cafe
Oh, the Old Home An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'