Домой Тексты песен It’s hard to be a saint in the city

It’s hard to be a saint in the city

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I had skin like leather
And the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered
But I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun,
Then dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket
And hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds
Just like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street
I could feel its heart beat
The sisters fell back and said,
«
Don’t that man look pretty»
The cripple on the corner cried out,
«
Nickels for your pity»
Them gasoline boys downtown
Sure talk gritty
It’s so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king of the alley, mama,
I could talk some trash
I was the prince of the paupers
Crowned downtown at the beggar’s bash
I was the pimp’s main prophet
I kept everything cool
Just a backstreet gambler
With the luck to lose
And when the heat came down it was left on the ground

The devil appeared like Jesus
Through the steam in the street
Showin’ me a hand I knew
Even the cops couldn’t beat
I felt his hot breath on my neck
As I dove into the heat
It’s so hard to be a saint
When you’re just a boy out on the street

And the sages of the subway
Sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm,
Their eyes fixed straight ahead
They ride the line of balance
And hold on by just a thread
But it’s too hot in these tunnels
You can get hit up by the heat
You get up to get out at your next stop
But they push you back in your seat
Your heart starts beatin’ faster
As you struggle to your feet
Then you’re outa that hole
And back up on the street

And then South Side sisters
Sure look pretty
The cripple on the corner cries out,
«
Nickels for your pity»
And them downtown boys, they sure talk gritty
It’s so hard to be a saint in the city

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