Luyện nghe bài hát Putnam County

I guess things were always kinda quiet around County
Kinda shy and sleepy as it clung to the of the 2-lane
That was stretched out like an dance floor
Where all the old timers in bib jeans and bought boots
Were hunkerin' down in the dirt to lie about lives
And the places that they'd
And they on Coca Colas and be spittin' days work
Until the was a stray dog on the ridge and
And the taverns would be until the naked eye of 2 A.M.

And the Stratocaster slung the Burger meister Beer Guts
Swizzle stick legs jackknifed over naughahyde
And the witch hazel spread out over the linoleum
Pedal pushers stretched out over bulge
And the coiffed brunette curls over eyes
Wearing Prince Machiavelli, Lauder, smells so sweet
And I elbowed up at the counter with mixed feelings over mixed
As and the Roadmasters moaned in pool hall concentration
And, and their brows to cover the entire
Hank Williams songbook whether you it not

And the Old register was singing to the tune of
57 dollars and 57
And then its call, one more game of 8 ball
Bernice will be putting the chairs on the
Someone come in say "Hey man, got
Any Jumper Cables, is a 6 or 12 volt?"
And all the studs in town would 'em down
And claim to fame as stomped their feet
Yeah, boastin' about being able to get more ass a toilet seat

And the GMC's and the Straight 8 were coughin' and wheezin'
And they perculated as they tossed the gravel the fenders
Weave home a wet, slick of a 2-lane
Tire irons and a crowbars a-rattlin', with a box and a pony saddle
You're grinding gears, shiftin' into
Yeah and that goddamn tranny's just gettin'
With the melodies of 'See ya and screwdrivers on carburettors
Talkin' about money to loan and palominos and strawberry roans

See you tomorrow, to the Mrs.
With money to and goodnight kisses
As the radio spit out Charlie
Man and he can sing that son of a bitch
And you weave home, yeah, weavin'
Leavin' the little joint winking in the dark, warm, narcotic night
Beneath a pin sky, it's home to toast and honey

Gotta startup the Ford, yeah, your lunch money's right there
On the drainin' board, and the toilet's
Ah, Christ shake the handle and the ringin'
It's Mrs Randal and where the are my goddamn sandals?
What do you the dog chewed up my left foot?
With the porcelain poodles and the glass
Staring down from the knack shelf
And the parent permission for the kids' field trips
And a pair of scraping across the shag carpet

And the impending squint of first
And it that lurked behind a weeping marquee in downtown
And they'd be up any minute now
Just like a bastard amber, yellow cab
On a rainy corner and be blowin' its horn, in window in town