Luyện nghe bài hát Putnam County

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

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

And the Old register was singing to the tune of
57 and 57 cents
And then its last call, one more game of 8
Bernice will be putting the on the tables
Someone come in say "Hey man, got
Any Jumper Cables, is a 6 or 12 volt?"
And all the studs in town would toss 'em
And claim to fame as they 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
home a wet, slick anaconda of a 2-lane
Tire irons and a crowbars a-rattlin', a tool box and a pony saddle
You're gears, shiftin' into first
Yeah and that goddamn tranny's just gettin'
With the of 'See ya laters' and screwdrivers on carburettors
Talkin' shop about money to loan and and strawberry roans

See you tomorrow, to the Mrs.
With money to borrow and goodnight
As the radio spit out Rich
Man and he sure can sing that son of a
And you weave home, yeah, home
Leavin' the little joint winking in the dark, warm, narcotic American
Beneath a pin cushion sky, it's home to toast and

Gotta startup the Ford, yeah, lunch money's right over 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?
do you mean the dog chewed up my left foot?
With the porcelain poodles and the glass
Staring down from the knick knack
And the parent permission for the kids' field trips
And a pair of Muckalucks scraping the shag carpet

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