Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur drizzle the plateglass
as a swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow biscuit of a cue ball moon
rollin' maverick an obsidian sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
down on the I'm freezin';
on a boulevard at a midnight road
I'm town from EASY STREET
with the knots of moviegoers and out of towners
on the
and the buildings high above
lit like or black dice
all the used car salesmen up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Grant wrap-around,
pacing in front of EARL
$39.95
like barkers at a gallery
they throw out of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like your
just as well as anybody here"
or give you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a born every minute
you just happened to be along at the right time"
come 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 yellow gypsy cabs
up in the taxi zones waitin' like
pinball
to be off a joy ride to a magical place
waitin' in line "truckers welcome" diners
with lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' with brakes, over driven
paid, over fed, a day late and a dollar short
but Christ I got my around a bottle and
my foot on the throttle and I'm on the corner
standin' on the like a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a gasper
' for some kind of Cheshire grin
stroking a goateed chin, and using parking
as walking on the inebriated stroll
with my eyelids propped open at mast
but you know... at Chubb's Pool Hall and Snooker
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a after two
and in the cobalt steel dream smoke, it
was the radio that out the hit parade
and the chalk squeaked, the creaked
and an Olympia sign winked through a yellow
shade, old Jack Chance leanin' up against
a Wurlitzer and eyeballin' out a 5 ball combination
you say? ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of possibility?
he be stretchin' out long tawny fingers out a
cool green felt with a provocative golden
and a full railshot that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my bannister and over to the
Wurlitzer and I A-2 I was lookin' for
something Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. or High Blood Pressure
by (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no dice
"that's life," that's what all the say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm
change that tune when I'm standing underneath
a buttery that's all melted off to one side
It was just about time that the sun
crawlin' yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of 23rd
and a dracula moon in a disguise
was its way back to its
room at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat)
and the El train came tumbling across the trestles and it
the ghost of Gene Krupa
with an cam and glasspacks
and the brushes of wet radials
on a wet and there's a
traffic jam session on tonight
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I up against
my bannister and been looking
for some of an emotional
investment with dividends
of a physical negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
missed payments, into
one-low-monthly
the nose
with romantic residuals and leg
but the chances are more likely I'll probably
be held over for another weekend