Luyện nghe bài hát It's Hard to Be a Saint in The City

I had like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a
I could walk like brando right into the sun, an' dance just a casanova
With my black-jack and jacket and my slicked sweet
Silver on my duds just like a harley in heat
When I strut down the street I can hear its'
The sisters fell back and said "don't that man pretty"
The cripple on the corner cried out "penny, for your pity"
Them gasoline boys down-town, they sure talk
It's so to be a saint in the city

I was the king of the alley, mama, I could talk some
I was the of the paupers, crowned down-town at the beggars' bash
I was a pimps prophet, I kept everything cool
Just a back-street gambler the luck to lo..ose
And when the heat down it was left on the ground, mama
Devil appeared to me like jesus the steam in the street, an'
Showed me a hand that even the cops couldn't
And I felt his hot breath on my neck as I into the heat, and it's so hard to be a saint when you're just a poor bo..oy out on the street

And the of the subway sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm, the eyes fixed ahead
They ride the line of balancin', hold on by a thread
Well, 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 right down in your seat
And your heart beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet
Then out of that hole!, back on the street
And them sisters, they sure look pretty
And the cripple on the cries out "nickels for your pity"
And down-town boys, they sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a in the c..c..city