분야
hwpSomebodys looking for you.
Miss Jeffries!
Morning, Sheriff.
Weve got what you want, we always
get a good haul on the 4th of July.
Good. Come on, let go.
Here she comes, Bill.
Come in, and see what weve got.
Wait, I forgot my tape recorder.
Boys, this is Miss Marcia Jeffries.
How do you do?
Her uncle owns the radio station
in town, KGRK.
Shes been doing a programme,
maybe youve heard it...
"A face in the crowd". A mighty nice
programme it is, too.
I know this is a little unusual...
but this morning shes going
to do her programme from here.
Miss Jeffries, the jail of Tawny
Hawk County is at your disposal.
It very simple, you just talk into
this microphone in a natural voice.
Well just chat back and forth.
This is completely informal...
so if anybody wants to sing a song
or tell an anecdote...
a funny story...
Let me see. Beanie,
last time you were here...
I heard you sing something.
I aint got my teeth with me
this time.
This is Radio KGRK, the voice
of North East Arkansas...
bringing you its morning feature,
"A face in the crowd".
Whose face?
It could be yours.
Or yours. People are fascinating
wherever you find them.
This is Marcia Jeffries,
looking for more faces...
this time from the county jail.
Say something.
Dont worry Ma,
everythings fine.
Nicest jail Ive been in
in this part of the country.
Hey you, you can do something.
I got black skin,
but I aint no minstrel.
Im sorry, Miss Jeffries,
theyre just an ordinary bunch.
Wheres the drunk from last night
with the guitar? What his name?
- Rhodes. That him lying there...
- Go and wake him up.
- Watch him, hes mean.
- Miss Jeffries, well wake him up.
Hey, wake up!
Morning, Mr. Rhodes,
Im from Radio...
Get away! Get away!
The sheriffs here.
I dont care if the President
is here.
If a man cant get a little
decent sleep in jail...
Who are you?
Id like to introduce you
to our radio audience.
Radio?
Join me in a little chat...
Wait a minute!
quit racing your motor.
What do I get out of it?
I mean, Me Myself and I.
Sheriff?
- What he in here for?
- A week, drunk and disorderly.
If youll co-operate, I might
let you out in the morning.
Me too, Im his manager.
The boys say you dont keep
your word any too good.
You keep your end of the bargain,
Ill keep mine.
Well, OK.
It a deal, tomorrow morning.
Ill sing you a song.
I went to Sarah Lawrence College,
I majored in music.
I learned that real American
music comes from the bottom up.
When Gershwin played at the New York
it was black tie music...
but the real beginning of it
was in folks that never owned a tie.
I just bumped into a fella you
never heard of, Rhodes.
What your first name?
Jack, or Mack,
what the difference?
Calls himself "Lonesome Rhodes".
Lonesome?
Dont be rushing me,
cut that thing off a minute.
Give me a chance to lubricate
my Adams apple.
Nothing like a little medicine
to put you in the mood.
Aint mamma a beauty?
A guitar beats a woman
any time!
I never have seen a woman
I could trust like this old guitar.
I love my mamma guitar.
Shes always waiting for me
to pick her up and hold her.
Never asks me for money or goes
cheating around when I aint looking.
If she gets a little sour, I just
give her a little twist like so...
and were right back
in tune together.
Hey, Lonesome,
sing "Rye whisky".
Lonesome.
"Hallelujah, Im a bum."
She can see that plain enough.
Whenever a bunch of fellas
like us...
outcasts, hobos, nobodies,
gentlemen loafers...
one time or all time losers,
call us what you want to...
Whenever we get together,
we tell funny stories...
me and Beanie
and the rest of these...
hand-to-mouth tumbleweed boys
like you see in here.
If whisky dont get us,
then women must...
and it looks like...
Im never gonna cease...
my wandering.
But, deep down,
when we get ready...
to tuck our heads under our wings
and go to sleep...
we aint kidding ourselves.
Were so low-down Ionely...
the fella we couldnt stand
the sight of this morning...
tonight, when the guards
douse the lights...
and plunge us into darkness...
why that same fella seems like
our nearest, dearest buddy.
Ten thousand miles
away from home.
And I dont even know my name.
But I aint crying.
No, I aint crying, because Im
gonna be a free man in the morning.
You hear that, fellas?
A free man!
The sheriffs gonna open up
his cage...
and Im gonna be as free
as a bird in the morning.
Hey, maybe I can try putting
a couple of rhymes together...
Sing something dependable
like "Home on the Range".
I aint gonna sing no
"Home on the Range".
No, sir, not if it means
I rot in here another month.
Im gonna sing
what Im gonna be...
a free man in the morning.
Oh, good night, moon.
Moon, you just fade,
fade, fade away.
Oh, good night, moon.
Moon, you just fade away.
And hurry on, Mr. Sun...
bring on the new day.
Oh, bring on the sheriff...
with his great big old key.
Yeah!
Bring on old Big Jeff,
the sheriff of Pickett, Arkansas...
with his big old fat key.
To open up this nasty,
filthy jailhouse...
and make a free man of me.
You got any objectio
