Luyện nghe bài hát It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City

I had skin like leather and the look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket and hair sweet
Silver studs on my duds like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street I feel its heartbeat
The sisters back and said "Don't that man look pretty"
The on the corner cried out "Nickels for your pity"
Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk grittyIt's so hard to be a in the city
I was the king if the alley I could talk some
I was the prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggar's
I was the pimp's main I kept everythning cool
A backstreet gambler with the to lose
And the heat came down it was left on the ground
The devil like Jesus through the steam in the street
Showin' me a hand I knew the cops couldn't beat
I felt his hot breath on my as I dove into the heat
so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy
And the of the subway sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes straightahead
They ride the line of and hold on by just a thread
But too hot in these tunnels you can get hit up by the heat
You get up to get out at your next but they push you
down in your seat
Your heart starts faster as you struggle to your feet
Then you're outa that and back up on the street
And South Side sisters sure look pretty
The cripple on the cries out "Nickels for your pity"
And them downtown boys sure talk grittyIt's so hard to be a saint in the