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

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

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

And the sages of the sit just like the living dead
As the tracks out the rhythm, the eyes fixed straight 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 your
And your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to feet
Then you're out of that hole!, on the street
And them south-side sisters, they look pretty
And the cripple on the corner cries out "nickels for pity"
And them down-town boys, they sure gritty
so hard to be a saint in the c..c..city