Jack Johnson
Текст песни Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie (Poem By Bob Dylan)

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
you think you're too old, too young, too smart, too dumb
yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race

No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it

And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer hands are a-slidin' 'cause yer rope is a-drippin'
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know this is wrong
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys

And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are a-rattlin' and a-breakin' and the roof tops will it stop shakin'
And yer whole world, yer whole world is a-slammin' and bangin'

And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And yer ask yourself "Why was I ever born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
Knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it so badly but it lays on the street

And yer whole world, yer whole world
Yer whole world is a-slammin' and bangin'