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

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