Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur drizzle down the
as a swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow of a buttery cue ball moon
maverick across an obsidian sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
on the corner I'm freezin';
on a boulevard at a midnight road
I'm across from EASY STREET
with the knots of moviegoers and out of towners
on the
and the buildings high above
lit like dominoes or dice
all the used car salesmen up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Grant wrap-around,
pacing in of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like barkers at a shootin'
they throw out kind of a Texas routine
"Hello sucker, we like your
as well as anybody else's here"
or give you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born every
you just to be comin' 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 air and AM-FM dreams
and the piss gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi zones like
machines
to be ticking off a joy ride to a magical
in line like "truckers welcome" diners
with dirt full 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 around a and
my foot on the throttle and I'm standin' on the
on the corner like a "just in town"
jasper, on a street corner with a lookin
' for kind of Cheshire billboard grin
a goateed chin, and using parking meters
as walking sticks on the stroll
with my eyelids propped open at mast
but you know... over at Chubb's 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 groaned out the hit parade
and the squeaked, the floorboards creaked
and an Olympia sign through a torn yellow
shade, old Chance himself leanin' up against
a and eyeballin' out a 5 ball combination shot
impossible you say? ...hard to believe?,
out of the realm of possibility?
he be out long tawny fingers out across a
cool green felt a provocative golden gate
and a table railshot that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my and wandered over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
something like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood
by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no
"that's life," that's what all the say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm
gonna change that when I'm standing underneath
a buttery moon that's all off to one side
It was about that time that the sun
came crawlin' yellow out of a
at the foot of Street
and a dracula in a black disguise
was its way back to its
pre-paid room at the St. Moritz (scat)
and the El train came tumbling the trestles and it sounded
like the of Gene Krupa
an overhead cam and glasspacks
and the whispering of wet radials
on a wet pavement and a
traffic jam on Belmont tonight
and the of the pending
evening, I leaned up
my bannister and I've been
for kind of an emotional
investment romantic dividends
kind of a physical
is
as I to consolidate all my
missed weekly payments,
one-low-monthly
the nose
with romantic residuals and leg
but the are more than likely I'll probably
be held over for smashed weekend