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 blue and weathered but I burst just like a super-nova
I could like brando right into the sun, an' dance just like a casanova
With my black-jack and jacket and my hair slicked
studs on my duds just like a harley in heat
When I strut the street I can hear its' heartbeat
The fell back and said "don't that man look pretty"
The cripple on the cried out "penny, nickels for your pity"
Them gasoline boys down-town, they sure gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the

I was the of the alley, mama, I could talk some trash
I was the prince of the paupers, down-town at the beggars' bash
I was a pimps main prophet, I everything cool
Just a back-street with the luck to lo..ose
And when the heat down it was left on the ground, mama
appeared to me like jesus through 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 dove into the heat, and it's so hard to be a saint when just a poor bo..oy out on the street

And the sages of the subway sit just 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
When you get up to get out at your next stop, but they push you right down in seat
And your heart starts beatin' as you struggle to your feet
Then you're out of hole!, back on the street
And south-side sisters, they sure look pretty
And the cripple on the cries out "nickels for your pity"
And them down-town boys, they sure gritty
It's so hard to be a in the c..c..city