Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur drizzle the plateglass
as a neon swizzle stick up the sultry night air
and a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue moon
maverick across an obsidian sky
as the go groanin' 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 and out of towners
on the
and the towering high above
lit like dominoes or dice
all the used car salesmen up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Foster wrap-around,
pacing in front of EARL
$39.95
barkers at a shootin' gallery
they throw out of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like money
just as well as else's here"
or they you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a born every minute
you happened to be comin' along at the right time"
come over now
you know... all the sailors are on the stroll
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
factory air and AM-FM dreams
and the yellow gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi waitin' like
pinball
to be ticking off a joy ride to a magical
in line like "truckers welcome" diners
with dirt lots of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' bankrupt brakes, over driven
under paid, fed, a day late and a dollar short
but Christ I got my lips around a and
my foot on the and I'm standin' on the corner
standin' on the corner a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a gasper
' for some of Cheshire billboard grin
stroking a goateed chin, and using meters
as walking sticks on the stroll
my eyelids propped open at half mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool and Snooker
it was a nickle two, yea it was a nickle after two
and in the cobalt steel dream smoke, it
was the radio that out the hit parade
and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards
and an Olympia sign through a torn 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 felt with a provocative golden gate
and a full table railshot that's no sweat and I
up my bannister and wandered over to the
Wurlitzer and I A-2 I was lookin' for
something Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Pressure
by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no
"that's life," that's what all the people say ridin'
in April, seriously down in May, but I know I'm
change that tune when I'm standing underneath
a buttery moon that's all off to one side
It was about that time that the sun
came yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of 23rd
and a moon in a black disguise
was its way back to its
pre-paid at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat)
and the El train tumbling across the trestles and it sounded
the ghost of Gene Krupa
with an overhead cam and
and the whispering of wet radials
on a wet pavement and a
traffic jam on Belmont tonight
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've looking
for kind of an emotional
with romantic dividends
kind of a negociation
is
as I attempt to all my
weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly
the nose
with romantic and leg akimbo
but the are more than likely I'll probably
be over for another smashed weekend