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 walk like brando right into the sun, an' dance just like a
With my black-jack and jacket and my hair slicked
Silver studs on my duds just a harley in heat
When I strut down the street I can its' heartbeat
The sisters back and said "don't that man look pretty"
The cripple on the corner cried out "penny, for your pity"
Them gasoline boys down-town, sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a in the city

I was the king of the alley, mama, I could talk trash
I was the prince of the paupers, crowned at the beggars' bash
I was a pimps prophet, I kept everything cool
Just a gambler with the luck to lo..ose
And when the came down it was left on the ground, mama
Devil to me like jesus through the steam in the street, an'
Showed me a hand that even the cops beat
And I his hot breath on my neck as I dove 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 straight
They ride the of balancin', hold on by just a thread
Well, it's too hot in these tunnels, you can get hit up by the
When you get up to get out at next stop, but they push you right down in your seat
And your heart starts beatin' faster as you to your feet
Then out of that hole!, back on the street
And south-side sisters, they sure look pretty
And the cripple on the corner cries out "nickels for pity"
And them boys, they sure talk gritty
so hard to be a saint in the c..c..city