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 biscuit of a buttery cue moon
rollin' maverick across an sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
down on the corner I'm
on a restless boulevard at a road
I'm across town from STREET
with the tight knots of moviegoers and out of
on the
and the buildings towering above
lit dominoes or black dice
all the car salesmen dressed up in
Purina Checkerboard
and Grant wrap-around,
pacing in front of EARL
$39.95
like barkers at a shootin'
they throw out kind of a Texas routine
"Hello sucker, we like money
just as well as anybody here"
or they give you the P.T. bit
"There's a sucker born every
you just happened to be along at the right time"
over here now
you know... all the harlequin sailors are on the
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
decent air and AM-FM dreams
and the piss yellow cabs
stacked up in the taxi zones like
machines
to be ticking off a joy to a magical place
waitin' in line "truckers welcome" diners
with lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' bankrupt brakes, over driven
under paid, over fed, a day and a dollar short
but Christ I got my lips a bottle and
my foot on the and I'm standin' on the corner
on the corner like a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a lookin
' for kind of Cheshire billboard grin
a goateed chin, and using parking meters
as sticks on the inebriated stroll
with my eyelids propped open at mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool Hall and
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a after two
and in the cobalt steel blue smoke, it
was the radio groaned out the hit parade
and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards
and an Olympia winked through a torn yellow
shade, old Jack Chance himself up against
a Wurlitzer and eyeballin' out a 5 ball shot
impossible you ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of possibility?
he be out long tawny fingers out across a
cool green felt a provocative golden gate
and a table railshot that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my bannister and wandered to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
something like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Caps
starring E. Weiss or High Blood Pressure
by (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no dice
"that's life," that's what all the people say high
in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm
gonna change that when I'm standing underneath
a moon that's all melted off to one side
It was just about that that the sun
came yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of Street
and a dracula in a black disguise
was its way back to its
pre-paid room at the St. Moritz (scat)
and the El train came tumbling the trestles and it sounded
like the ghost of Krupa
with an overhead cam and
and the brushes of wet radials
on a wet pavement and a
jam session on Belmont tonight
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I up against
my bannister and I've looking
for some kind of an
investment with romantic
of a physical negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
missed payments, into
one-low-monthly
the nose
with residuals and leg akimbo
but the chances are more than likely I'll
be held over for another weekend