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 cheeks are made of peach -- his hopes may be the same
but he's signed up as a soldier out to the music game
There are patches on his jacket -- he's used bleach to fade his jeans
with a new stay pressed shirt -- and some creased and wrinkled dreams
his a blemish garden -- but his eyes are virgin clear
his is chicken little's -- but he's hearing paul revere
he catches himself giggling -- he forces up a sneer
though he'd rather have a milk shake -- he keeps forcing the beer
another folkie -- late in coming down the pike
riding his guitar -- he 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
boy is staying acoustic.
there's seeger in his heart
he hopes his songs will somehow
to heal the cracks split apart
america plastic
And now there's dylan from his mouth
he's himself way down south
to learn a black and blues
from old men who paid their dues
they knew they had nothing to lose
they it
so they got to it
With old gibsons and red clay shoes
playing 1-4-5 like good news
and cursed with skin calls for blood
they put their face and in mud
but oh they learned the music way down there
the real learn it somewhere
your guitar -- sing it kid
just write about your feelings -- not the you never did
-- it once had cursed me
but your youth is no handicap -- it's what you thirsty
Hey, kid you know you can hear your as you're kicking up the dust
and the rustling in the shadows you secrets you can trust
the capturing of whispers is the way to write a
it's when you get to the music can go wrong
You can't see the audience spotlights in your eyes
your feet can't feel the highway from where the lear jet
when you glide in splendor in your padded limousines
only you are crying there behind the silver
now you battle dragons -- but they'll all turn into
when you grab the wheel of fortune -- you get up in the cog
First your art into craft -- then the yahoos start to laugh
then you'll hear the jackals howl 'cause they to watch the fall
they're the ones out there 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, charley would be
and i fantasized some tragedy'd be soon me
just today i had my birthday -- i made it thirty-four
mere mortal, not immortal, not anymore
i've got problem with my aging i no longer can ignore
a tame and toothless tabby can't a lion's roar
And i can't help being on these midnight afternoons
when i ask the loaded questions -- why does come so soon?
and where are all the golden that i was singing for
the daybreak of my dreams no more
Yeah the minute man is soft -- the mirror's on the shelf
when the truth's up there -- can you fool yourself
i am the aged jester -- who won't retire
a clown without a net caught staggering on the high wire
Yesterday's a collar that has settled round my
today keeps slipping by me, it leaves no
is a daydream, the future's never true
am i a fading 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 my present
are we both going
Step right up lady -- your two hundred birthdays make you old if not senile
and we see the there in your rigor mortis smile
with your old eating dog food and your children eating paint
while the own the flag and sell us sermons on restraint
And while blood's the language that your deaf old ears can hear
and you will not answer with that message coming clear
does it there's no more ripples in your tired old glory stream
and the buzzards own the of your dream?

B*u*y
'em pre-canned laughter
america
sing happy after
a dance band on the titanic
singing nearer my god to
and the on the starboard bow
won't you with me
Yes i it in the new york times
that was on the today
it said that dreams were out of
we'll no more empty promises
there'll be no wasted passions
to clutter up our
It was a good sign
the went on to say
it shows we are growing up
in oh so healthy ways
and i myself this is
where i'm at
but i don't much like about that
-- are you really so naive
you can honestly
the country's getting better
when all you do is let her
-- can you really be surprised
when it's there your eyes
when you hold the knife that her
you live the life starves her to the bone
Good don't come cheap
got to pay for them
if you just when you're asleep
is no way for them
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 behind that word
it's not enough to be when your future's been deferred
What i've run through my body, i've run through my mind
my breath's the only -- and the tempo is my time
my enemy is hopelessness -- my honest doubt
the answer is a question that i will find out
Is music propaganda -- should i boogie, and roll
or just an early warning system hitched up to my
am i observer or or huckster of belief
making too of a life so mercifully brief?
So i stride down sunny streets and the band plays my song
applauding at my shadow long after i am gone
should i hold this wistful notion that the is worthwhile
or tiptoe cross the chasm with a and a smile
Well i got up morning -- i don't need to know no more
it evaporated that had boiled the night before
every new day's dawning my kid climbs in my bed
and tells the cynics of the room your language is dead
And as i with my music through the jungles of despair
my kid will learn guitar and his street corner somewhere
there he'll make the silence to the dream behind the voice
and show his minstrel hamlet daddy that there was one choice
Strum your guitar -- it kid
just write 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
Strum your guitar -- it kid
just write about feelings -- not the things you never did
band...