Luyện nghe bài hát Nighthawk Postcards

there's a blur down the plateglass
as a swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon
maverick across an obsidian sky
as the busses go and wheezin',
down on the corner I'm
on a restless boulevard at a midnight
I'm across town from STREET
with the tight knots of and out of towners
on the
and the towering high above
lit like dominoes or black
all the car salesmen dressed up in
Checkerboard slacks
and Foster wrap-around,
pacing in of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95
like barkers at a gallery
they out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like your
just as well as anybody here"
or they you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born minute
you just happened to be comin' at the right time"
come here now
you know... all the harlequin are on the stroll
in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
decent air and AM-FM dreams
and the yellow gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi waitin' like
machines
to be ticking off a joy ride to a place
waitin' in line "truckers welcome" diners
with lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and
they're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, driven
under paid, over fed, a day and a dollar short
but Christ I got my lips around a and
my foot on the throttle and I'm on the corner
on the corner like a "just in town"
jasper, on a corner with a gasper lookin
' for some kind of Cheshire billboard
stroking a goateed chin, and using meters
as sticks on the inebriated stroll
with my eyelids propped open at half
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool and Snooker
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a nickle two
and in the cobalt steel dream smoke, it
was the radio that groaned out the hit
and the squeaked, the floorboards creaked
and an Olympia sign winked through a torn
shade, old Jack Chance himself up against
a Wurlitzer and eyeballin' out a 5 combination shot
impossible you say? ...hard to believe?,
out of the realm of possibility?
he be stretchin' out long fingers out across a
cool green felt with a provocative gate
and a full table railshot no sweat and I leaned
up against my bannister and over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for
something like Wine, Wine, by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Pressure
by (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no dice
"that's life," that's all the people say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot down in May, but I I'm
gonna change that tune when I'm standing
a buttery moon that's all off to one side
It was just that time that the sun
came yellow out of a manhole
at the of 23rd Street
and a moon in a black disguise
was making its way to its
pre-paid room at the St. Hotel (scat)
and the El train came tumbling across the trestles and it
like the of Gene Krupa
an overhead cam and glasspacks
and the whispering brushes of wet
on a wet pavement and a
traffic jam session on Belmont
and the rhapsody of the
evening, I leaned up
my and I've been looking
for kind of an emotional
investment romantic dividends
kind of a physical
is
as I to consolidate all my
weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly
through the
romantic residuals and leg akimbo
but the chances are more than likely probably
be held for another smashed weekend