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 ball
rollin' maverick an obsidian sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
on the corner I'm freezin';
on a restless at a midnight road
I'm across town from EASY
with the tight knots of moviegoers and out of
on the
and the buildings towering above
lit like dominoes or black
all the used car dressed up in
Purina slacks
and Foster wrap-around,
in front of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like barkers at a shootin'
throw out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we your money
just as as anybody else's here"
or they you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born minute
you just to be comin' 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 factory air and dreams
and the piss yellow gypsy
stacked up in the taxi zones waitin'
pinball
to be ticking off a joy ride to a place
waitin' in like "truckers welcome" diners
with dirt lots of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, driven
under paid, over fed, a day late and a short
but Christ I got my lips a bottle and
my on the throttle and I'm standin' on the corner
standin' on the like a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a gasper
' for some kind of Cheshire billboard
stroking a goateed chin, and using meters
as sticks on the inebriated stroll
my eyelids propped open at half mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool Hall and
it was a after two, yea it was a nickle after two
and in the steel blue dream smoke, it
was the that groaned out the hit parade
and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards
and an Olympia sign winked through a yellow
shade, old Jack Chance leanin' up against
a and eyeballin' out a 5 ball combination shot
impossible you ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the of possibility? naaaa
he be out long tawny fingers out across a
cool green felt a provocative golden gate
and a full table that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my bannister and over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood
by George (cryin' in the streets) - no dice
"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 standing
a buttery that's all melted off to one side
It was just about time that the sun
came crawlin' out of a manhole
at the of 23rd Street
and a moon in a black disguise
was its way back to its
pre-paid room at the St. Moritz (scat)
and the El train came tumbling across the and it sounded
like the ghost of Gene
an overhead cam and glasspacks
and the whispering brushes of wet
on a wet pavement and a
traffic jam session on Belmont
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've been
for kind of an emotional
investment with dividends
of a physical negociation
is
as I to consolidate all my
missed weekly payments,
one-low-monthly
through the
with romantic residuals and leg
but the chances are more than I'll probably
be held over for another smashed