Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur down the plateglass
as a neon stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow of a buttery cue ball moon
rollin' maverick across an sky
as the go groanin' and wheezin',
down on the corner I'm
on a boulevard at a midnight road
I'm across town from STREET
with the tight knots of moviegoers and out of
on the
and the buildings high above
lit like or black dice
all the car salesmen dressed up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Foster wrap-around,
in front of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like at a shootin' gallery
they throw out kind of a Texas routine
"Hello sucker, we like your
as well as anybody else's here"
or they you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a born every minute
you just to be comin' along at the right time"
over here now
you know... all the sailors are on the stroll
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
decent factory air and dreams
and the piss gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi waitin' like
pinball
to be ticking off a joy ride to a place
in line like "truckers welcome" diners
with lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, over driven
under paid, over fed, a day and a dollar short
but I got my lips around a bottle and
my foot on the throttle and I'm standin' on the
standin' on the corner a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner a gasper lookin
' for some kind of Cheshire billboard
stroking a goateed chin, and using parking
as walking sticks on the stroll
my eyelids propped open at half mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Hall and Snooker
it was a after two, yea it was a nickle after two
and in the steel blue dream smoke, it
was the radio that groaned out the hit
and the chalk squeaked, the creaked
and an Olympia sign winked through a torn
shade, old Jack Chance leanin' up against
a Wurlitzer and out a 5 ball combination shot
impossible you ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of naaaa
he be stretchin' out long tawny fingers out a
cool green with a provocative golden gate
and a full table that's no sweat and I leaned
up my bannister and wandered over to the
and I punched A-2 I was lookin' for
something like Wine, Wine, by the Night Caps
Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood Pressure
by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no
"that's life," that's what all the people say high
in April, shot down in May, but I know I'm
gonna change that tune when I'm underneath
a buttery moon that's all melted off to one
It was just about time that the sun
came crawlin' yellow out of a
at the foot of 23rd
and a dracula in a black disguise
was making its way to its
pre-paid room at the St. Hotel (scat)
and the El train tumbling across the trestles and it sounded
like the of Gene Krupa
an overhead cam and glasspacks
and the brushes of wet radials
on a wet pavement and a
traffic jam session on tonight
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've been
for some kind of an
investment with romantic
kind of a physical
is
as I attempt to all my
missed payments, into
payment
through the
with romantic and leg akimbo
but the chances are than likely I'll probably
be held for another smashed weekend