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

I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard of a cobra
I was born blue and 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 sweet
Silver studs on my duds just like a in heat
I strut down the street I can hear its' heartbeat
The sisters fell back and said "don't man look pretty"
The cripple on the corner out "penny, nickels for your pity"
Them gasoline boys down-town, they talk gritty
It's so hard to be a in the city

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

And the sages of the subway sit just the living dead
As the tracks out the rhythm, the eyes fixed straight ahead
They ride the line of balancin', hold on by just a
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 starts faster as you struggle to your feet
Then you're out of that hole!, on the street
And them south-side sisters, they look pretty
And the cripple on the cries out "nickels for your pity"
And them down-town boys, they sure gritty
It's so to be a saint in the c..c..city